


Rack Up The Balls

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Drama, During Canon, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-07
Updated: 2008-07-27
Packaged: 2018-09-03 14:34:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8717638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: SUMMARY:  After an evening playing pool Sam and Dean are kidnapped by a gang of thugs. Taken to a nearby park where they are raped and abused. Will the close bond they have as brothers survive or will it change their relationship forever?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Nc-17, NON-CON RAPE, Torture, Violence, Bad Language, Knifeplay, Dean/omc, Sam/omc, Wincest
> 
> As you can see from the WARNINGS / TAGS there's a little something for EVERYONE! I take pride in being an EQUAL OPPORTUNITY OFFENDER !!  
>   
> MORE WARNINGS THAN A PACK OF CIGARETTES ....PLUS SIDE THOUGH.. WILL NOT GIVE YOU CANCER!!!!!

  
Author's notes: This story covers graphic male rape ....PLEASE STAY AWAY IF EASILY OFFENDED....treated as serious with lots of angst and brotherly healing  


* * *

Author : oldbatj

Summary: After an evening playing pool Sam and Dean are kidnapped by a gang of thugs. Taken to a nearby park where they are raped and abused. Will the close bond they have as brothers survive or will it change their relationship forever?

 

As you can see from the WARNINGS / TAGS there's a little something for EVERYONE! I take pride in being an EQUAL OPPORTUNITY OFFENDER !!

 

 

Rack Up The Balls – Part One

 

 

The attack came so unexpectedly and swift… and vicious. One moment the hunters were laughing and looking forward to hot showers and motel beds, the next, they were in deep, inescapable shit. After a few hours engaged in some simple, innocent pool hustling with several innocuous locals, Dean and Sam were quietly exiting the small non-descript tavern. As usual, Dean had won, but he sure hadn’t made a killing! He’d played a few games against each of the five 40-ish guys and came away with just a little more than one hundred and seventy dollars. Not a big win or a big loss, really.

 

As the hunters cheerfully headed towards the Impala, all hell suddenly broke loose! Dean caught a full quart bottle of booze hard on the right temple and was felled like a dead tree. Sam was swarmed and totally overpowered by four guys. Immediately his hands were bound tightly behind his back and a knotted bandana gag was forced into his mouth. 

Their attackers forced Sam to climb into the back of an empty work van, and literally threw the unconscious, bleeding Dean onto his lap, before they all piled inside. As the side door slid shut, the motor started and they all took a short drive down the main road. 

 

Turning onto a small bumpy service road, they traveled several hundred yards before the squealing brakes announced a halt. The doors opened and the men in the rear clambered out, dragging the motionless, wounded hunter out by his ankles. As Dean’s head bumped hard onto the rough ground Sam screamed against his gag, wondering helplessly how badly hurt his brother truly was. It had torn at him to have the injured man so close and yet be unable to offer any medical assistance. He was certain the driving force behind that bottle had been sufficient to induce a concussion. In the blackness of the van’s interior Sam could see nothing but the wetness of Dean’s wound. He had never felt so helpless.

 

Sam remained in the van accompanied by a single huge man. He repeatedly tested his bonds but they were tight and solid with no play in them. Finally after a five-minute absence the other men returned to the van, without Dean! Sam’s eyes widened with fear, wondering what they had done. Sam now clearly recognized them as the five pool players from the bar.

 

“Okay, boy, your turn now. About time for you and your buddy to get taught a little respect and manners!” Rough hands caught at Sam’s arms and legs, physically hauling him from the van’s dark interior. 

 

Glancing around Sam observed they were in an outdoor park with small clusters of wooden picnic tables spaced around the perimeter of a large parking area. In one area a tall sodium light provided pale silvery illumination, and beneath that was where he finally spotted his missing brother, sprawled on a tabletop. Two men were moving around the table still binding Dean’s body in place. As they drew closer Sam saw they had taken the unconscious hunter and draped him across the width of one table with his knees on the bench and his now bared chest on the rough surface. His face, twisted in Sam’s direction, showed that like Sam, Dean too was gagged with a bandana.

 

In his defenseless condition, Dean had been stripped of his shirt and boots and bound in place. Multiple loops of rope wrapped around his upper body held him fast to the table facedown; his outstretched arms had been tied in that position with ropes knotted to the sturdy table legs. It looked nearly impossible to escape from, but Sam found the worst of it as he was hauled to the next table and forced to sit as a mute witness. 

 

Dean’s knees had been locked securely onto the bench with ropes coiled around his calves with his knees spread about two feet apart. Dean’s jeans had been undone and pooled loosely around his bent knees, leaving his exposed ass covered only by his boxers. He looked obscenely vulnerable and Sam’s terrified heart rose from his chest into his tightly clenched throat.

 

Finally, the men regrouped, again passing around a bottle of whiskey. They spoke in voices so low at first that Sam was unable to overhear, but after awhile they turned to stare in his direction, breaking out in predatory grins. Two men stepped forward and dragged Sam off his perch, forcing him to his knees near the second table, tying the loose end of his wrist-binding rope to a table leg.

 

The guy that seemed more or less the leader pointed to Dean’s inert body. “Him first or you, boy? Who’s it going to be?”

 

Without a moment’s hesitation Sam quickly blurted “Me!” from behind the gag. “Me!”

 

Someone dragged the gag from his mouth, and the panicked words tumbled from his lips, “Me! Do whatever you want to me but just leave him alone!”

 

“He your significant other, kid?” a drunken voice slurred out. A nasty snicker rippled through the group.

 

That question surprised Sam, thinking of how often Dean had heard something similar. Seeing his unconscious protector, tightly bound and bleeding, Sam’s voice choked with angry, fearful emotion. “He’s my brother! We’re on this road trip looking for our father… We’ll give back the money you lost. We just needed money for gas and food.” He looked up at the leering, smirking faces of their captors, pleading, “Please… Just don’t hurt him any more. Please. Do whatever you’re going to do to me and let me get him some medical help.”

 

Instead of sympathetic understanding, the men laughed in drunken delight at their fearful victim’s plea. Someone spat out, “Bit late for that, boy. Day late and dollar short if you know what I mean. We got us some fun plans for you boys.”

 

The leader stepped closer, “I’m Dick. You boys got names? Hate not knowing people’s names. Don’t seem right, hey, guys?” He surveyed the faces of the grinning men surrounding them.

 

“My name’s Sam. My brother’s name is Dean,” Sam said quietly. His mind raced, searching frantically for a non-existent escape. This was certainly not the way he had ever envisioned their demise. He just needed to bide his time and look for some type of opening, like Dean would do.

 

“Well, Sam. This thing’s not gonna’ stop. How about a hard jerk on the bottle before we get started? Might make this easier on you.” With that the mouth of the whiskey bottle was pushed between Sam’s lips as Dick upended the container and force-fed the kneeling boy three fiery swallows.

 

The alcohol seared his tongue and throat then burned a trail down into Sam’s empty gut. He shook his head and shuddered slightly at the dizzying hot wave that quickly washed through him. A hand gripped his hair tipping his head back as the bottle again met his lips.

 

“Bit more, Sam… Being a little drunk will make this easier.” He was compelled to down two more mouthfuls, and despite the dire situation, he chuckled as the dizzy feeling intensified.

 

Then two of the others stepped closer, one addressing Dick, “He can do the two of us and then we can decide who gets to go next and with which one.”

 

As Sam was trying to figure out what they meant, Dick laid it all out in the open, “Sam can ‘blow’ you both. Fuck! I don’t care if he does you all, but I get the first piece of blondie there. Should be a sweet fit. I lost the most money, so I’m the one gets to ‘pop his cherry’ so say the rules. Fred lost the most last month, snagged first piece of that other guy.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, you lucky bastard. We know the rules.”

 

Rape Dean! Blowjobs! Oh, my God! No!

 

To Sam’s dismay the men began unzipping and yanking their pants and underwear down around their thighs. Sam felt his thudding heart stop for a moment as he watched the men flip a coin to determine who would go first with him. He was grateful Dean would not see this happening. The winner, an overweight trucker that Sam had taken an instant dislike to back in the bar, hooted loudly and began bouncing about, making obscene gestures for Sam’s benefit. 

 

Sporting a huge potbelly, the man also had massive arms to back his demands. “Okay, Sammy boy! We can make this hard or we can make it easy. Your choice…” 

 

Moving in close, he grabbed a fistful of Sam’s hair and tried to yank his head back. When Sam steadfastly knelt there, unmoving, the man pulled back a beefy fist and hit Sam hard above the left ear. With the next yank he was able to tilt Sam’s head back. Leaning down he breathed his foul whiskey-breath into the young hunter’s face as his mean piggy eyes locked on Sam’s defiant ones.

 

“Just keep it up, boy! I can make it real hard! You can act like a sweet little cooperative ‘bitch’ or you can fight it. Me? I like the fight better. ’Cuz first I’ll get to knock out your pretty boy teeth and then just fuck through your bloody gums! I don’t give a shit! Take it any way I can get it.”

 

Drawing himself up to his full height, the man hissed threateningly, “So what’s it gonna be then? Sucking Sammy? Or toothless toy?” He guffawed at his own disgusting little scenario and pounded a meaty fist into his open palm several times for effect.

 

Glancing over to his defenseless, beaten senseless brother, Sam nodded his head in submissive defiance.

 

TBC

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%


	2. Chapter 2

  
Author's notes: SINCE IT APPEARS AS IF NONE OF MY OTHER CHAPTERS WILL BE VALIDATED ANYTIME WITHIN THE NEXT FEW WEEKS....they've been posted and waiting.....please use this link for more chapters.... http://oldbatj.livejournal.com/ thanks...  


* * *

Rack Up The Balls! -- Part Two

 

 

 

“Stick your tongue out here, boy. Show us what you’ve got!”

 

Sam needed desperately to get free, to get Dean free. He knew he couldn’t reach Dean’s boot knife unless he were many feet closer than this rope allowed from this position. They had tossed Dean’s boots onto the ground near Dean’s table and that was a solid twenty feet away from him. Knowing he HAD to play along sickened him to his very core. He would HAVE to play their vile games for Dean, just as he knew Dean would play along if their positions were reversed! A vicious cuff alongside his head brought things back into vivid, horrid focus. 

 

“We going for the hard way after all, bitch?’ the trucker hissed. “Or we gonna see that sweet little ‘dick licker’ of yours?”

 

Sam, despite his overpowering feeling of disgust and loathing, forced his tongue past his teeth and lips, much to the nasty, grunted pleasure of the surrounding men. Sam suddenly had the overwhelming desire to simply bite off his own tongue.

 

“Oh, yeah, boy! The fun begins!” 

 

Sam’s blood turned to ice.

 

“Freddy, you’re gonna leave us some of that, right?” That line was accompanied by lewd catcalling.

 

“Gonna get me some right now, huh, boy?” The trucker pig, they called Freddy, shoved his smallish fully erect dick in Sam’s face. “Lick it! All of it! Then we’ll see what else you can do!”

 

Sam gagged on the acrid, sweaty taste and smell of the disgusting thing, fighting valiantly against the urge to vomit. An unavoidable, retching gag earned him another violent cuff to the head. 

 

Suddenly a thumb hooked onto his lower teeth yanking his jaws apart! “Open wide, you little bastard! And say Ahhh!” 

 

Sam immediately had the man’s warm cock pushed past his lips and as deep into his mouth as the length allowed. Mentally Sam noted how lucky he was that this animal had nothing that the girls would write home about. The bastard quickly knotted his fingers into Sam’s longish hair and with that grip forced Sam to suck at the rhythm his attacker chose. Obscene moans and grunts emanated from the huge man.

 

“Oh yeah, boy, suck my big one! Oh, yeah!” 

 

Casting a glance past the man’s ‘wide load’ belly, Sam saw the next guy in line was better endowed. The three grinning men nearest to the still unconscious Dean had all exposed their ‘privates’. One guy was jacking off while watching Sam and ‘the pig’, while another stood silently, practically drooling. Dick was easing a surgical glove onto his right hand for some reason, one Sam was sure he didn’t want to know. Sam pushed hard to separate his mind from his body and his own appalling, forced physical actions. How many times had he marveled at Dean’s ability to do so? He pushed to only be the ‘hunter’… to only seek out their escape route. Somehow Sam was determined this would end and he would find a way to retrieve Dean’s knife, then free his brother, hopefully in time.

 

All of a sudden the young man became aware that his violator was pumping harder and faster between his lips, his hands tearing at the hunter’s hair. Panting like a woman in childbirth, the animal moaned “Oh yeah! Oh, oh, boy! Oooh, that’s so fuckin’ good! Oh, God! I’m coming!” Sam wanted to throw up. The filthy beast was going to ejaculate into his mouth! Sam prayed the amount would be as small as the penis. The man suddenly groaned, and jerked in a spastic manner. Sam felt the thick, hot seminal fluid hit the back of his throat. Oh, my God! Nooo!

 

“Like a ten dollar whore, aintcha’ boy? Swallow and suck some more. Hey, who’s next?” Freddy leaned down and sneered as he looked into Sam’s face. “Catch ‘ya again later, boy.”

 

As the guy jerked his pathetic, spent dick from Sam’s mouth, someone shoved the whiskey bottle between Sam’s lips again. “Swallow or just rinse and spit, whichever suits you.” 

 

Sam chose to do both, rinsing and spitting and then a long, sterilizing fiery gulp. The pure burning liquid had him gasping for air.

 

“Open up, boy! Let’s get moving. Sonny gets you after me then we’ll see if we can expand the game a bit!” Slimmer than the trucker, this guy was hung rather well, maybe eight inches of something the size of a sausage dog. “Open your mouth, Sam. Now! Or do you need a little persuading?”

 

Sam opened his mouth reluctantly, knowing how dangerous the alternative might be.

 

“That’s a good boy! Now let’s see if you can deep-throat this little joystick of mine. Take a few practice strokes and then let’s get a rhythm going, son.” Sam’s mind slipped back to a memory of Jess choking, gagging and finally vomiting the first time she and Sam ever tried that maneuver.

 

Again using Sam’s hair as grips, this bastard forced his thick cock deep into Sam’s mouth, not stopping until he hit the tunnel of Sam’s throat, causing Sam to gag and feel as if he were suffocating. “Watch that gag reflex, Sammy. That’s it! You can do it! Keep swallowing, slide it in deeper... That’s a boy! You got it. Ahhh!! All the way now! Faster! Deeper! Deep throating is easy. Just breathe through your nose. No gagging now! Breathe… Breathe… There you go!” 

 

Soon they were all cheering on the action. Sam maintained his nasal breathing and tried to think of anything but the vile bastard attached to the repugnant appendage now in his mouth and throat. Finally the fucker was moaning and groaning. “Faster, boy! Faster!”

 

Sam could feel the man’s body stiffen and tried to get ready for the disgusting fluid he knew was about to be unleashed. As the thick tepid slime was ejaculated he forced his throat to swallow, forced himself to breathe through his anger-flared nostrils. His eyes flitted toward Dean and he watched in terror as Dick was sliding Dean’s boxers down towards his bent, bound knees. The bastard who’d been first with Sam was now passed out on the ground, leaving only four men to deal with. He HAD to get to Dean, fast!

 

“Oh, Sammy-boy! That was fucking fantastic! Damn boy! You were born for this stuff! Maybe you and me’ll go a second round when Sonny’s done with you. You’ll just get better with practice, you know.” The guy ruffled Sam’s hair as if they were friends. At that point, Sam wished he could shove that bastard’s hand into a meat-grinder.

 

Sonny stepped up for his turn, rubbing his own rubbery dick up and down Sam’s cheek. “My turn now, kid! Let’s see how sweet you feel. Never had me a college-boy before. Guess we’ll see if you being smart makes you a better fuck!” Without another word, he jerked Sam’s chin down and pressed his big cock into Sam’s gagging mouth. Yanking it back out immediately, he punched Sam in the jaw. 

 

“You bite me, you little bastard, and I’ll kill you without a second thought.” He dug in a pocket and for Sam’s benefit dragged out a large razor sharp Buck knife. 

 

Sam forced the whispered words through his torn lips, “Thirsty! Thirsty!” Sam watched as the man put that wonderful, future weapon away and reached for the whiskey bottle on the ground. Sam was afraid of getting too drunk, knowing it would dull his mind and reflexes, but he needed to anesthetize his throat. This Sonny was about the same size as the previous guy and Sam needed a little help here. 

 

Somehow he would find a way to get free, get Dean’s knife and get to Dean before they both were considered collateral damage. He desired with every fiber of his being to save his beloved brother from any of this degradation and depravity. This vile shit would destroy Dean.

 

The whiskey bottle re-appeared and the hand holding it forced Sam to fill his mouth, twice. Swallowing the first time, he tried to force most of the second portion back out, gasping for air, letting it trickle down his neck and shirt. Catching a fist to the back of his head, his vision blurred and his hearing distorted momentarily.

 

“Stupid, little fuck! Don’t be wasting good booze!” Sonny wasted no time in thrusting his cock back into Sam’s torn, sore mouth. ”Okay, get on with it, Sammy-boy. Dick has a real hard-on for that sweet brother of yours! This is one show you won’t wanna miss!”

 

Again the ‘crew’ cheered Sam on. “Suck it, Sammy. Just pretend you’re a Shop-Vac! Suck it fucking dry!” They all guffawed at that.

 

“Fuck him, Sonny. Shove it down his throat. Make him deep throatcha’!”

 

Sonny forced Sam’s head forward and back at a furious pace. Grunting like a damned rooting hog he loosed his ‘wad’ deep in Sam’s throat. As Sonny vacated the hunter’s open jaws, clearing his blocked line of vision, Sam stared in horror at Dick. He had a huge, fully engorged cock and he was gunning for Dean. Standing there poised, he turned and called out to his cohorts.

 

“Okay, Sonny, if you’re taken care of for now, let’s get on with the main attraction. You boys can all go back for ‘seconds’ later. Sure Sam will be happy to oblige. Hell, seeing as how Dean’s not going anywhere he may want to help Sam out.” They laughed as a chorus. 

 

The unnamed penis that had followed Fred, chuckled, “Let’s go watch the show, and we can come back for another dance with Sam later. Sammy seconds and Dean for dessert!”

 

Sam buried his discomfort and concentrated his vision on his securely bound still unconscious brother. The blood on Dean’s head had maintained its wet, deep red appearance and Sam knew it was a serious wound. Sam shifted on his stiff, numbing strained knees. They had to have been there close to half an hour and Dean still hadn’t stirred. Perhaps Dean will stay unconscious! Maybe he won’t feel this.

 

As the men started toward Dick and Dean, their leader stopped them cold. “Bring the boy, you fools! I want him to see this. They’re going to learn not to fuck pool players like us ‘cuz sometimes we fuck back!” 

 

Sam was dragged roughly to his feet, his knees nearly collapsing as he stood. Not one of these gross, debased pieces of shit stood over 5’9’. If Sam’s hands were free he was quite certain he could take any or all of them and win! His father had been a great Marine and an even better hand-to-hand combat instructor. He strained at the unyielding coils around his wrists.

 

When one of the men untied Sam’s rope from the table leg, Sonny grabbed Sam’s belt like a harness compelling him to move forward. “You may want to take some notes here, bitch. You may be next!” 

 

As they ambled the twenty feet toward the second group, Dick who had been running his disgusting hands all over Dean’s ass, back and arms let loose a wolf-whistle. “Damn, look at the tight muscles on this one! Sam built like this, too?”

 

They all watched as Sonny tore Sam’s t-shirt up the front exposing his tightly muscled torso. They all just stared at the washboard abs.

 

“Fuck! Sure didn’t get like this hustling ‘yokels’ shooting pool! What do you boys do for a living?” Dick asked.

 

Remaining silent Sam caught a vicious fist to the solar plexus, hard. “Answer the man, asshole!”

 

“We’re professional hunters. We go after the vermin people don’t want around anymore.” Like you fucking assholes!!

 

“Well, son, tonight you boys are those critters. This is our own little town and our special visitor ‘catch and release program’, just gotta’ finish ‘tagging’ you first!”

 

The rag-tag crew laughed heartily at Dick’s brand of humor. Sonny and Penis Two held Sam upright about six feet back as Dick trailed his ungloved hand obscenely over Dean’s entire bare ass. Finally he slid his hand between Dean’s separated knees. He took Dean’s sack in his hand and began rolling the balls gently back and forth in the velvety sheath. 

 

Sam fought to restrain his urge to lunge forward and at least head-butt Dick into unconsciousness. Although it would momentarily save Dean and would sure as shit make Sam feel better, it would get him nowhere. They would swarm him and when the men got done using them might kill the hunters just for spite. Once they had let him loose from the table, he had formulated his plan and he prayed Dean would not suffer too horrendously in the meantime.

 

Dick licked his lips wantonly, “Oh, you two boys have been such a sweet treat. Usually, we only have one and they’re usually out of shape and tire easily. Not much sport in that! Is there?” 

 

With that he poured some whiskey over the fingers of his gloved hand as he grinned salaciously at Sam. “If you’re a good little soldier tonight, Sam, maybe we’ll let you fuck this sweet piece of ass after we’ve all had our turns. In fact, I think I’ll insist on it! Incest can be fun!” The vile squad of deviates laughed like a starving pack of wild hyenas.

 

He smiled secretively at the group and touched a finger to his lips as if shushing them. “Time to wake up Sleeping Beauty! As hard as he sleeps it may take something impressive to open those green peepers. Let’s see if Dean wants to play!” 

 

A little more whiskey streamed over his gloved fingers and without warning he suddenly plunged two fingers deep into Dean’s tight dusky orifice!

 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%


	3. Chapter 3

  
Author's notes: Dean becomes aware of his surroundings and their horrible situation. Can he save Sam or vice versa?  


* * *

Rack Up The Balls! Part Three

 

 

Dean was slammed into consciousness with a scream of pain, muted by the bulky gag in his mouth. His aching brain tried to quickly make sense of his situation. The intense throbbing headache and the dizzying nausea brought him to the realization that he had at least a mild concussion as he remembered being knocked out when he’d left a building. Left a building… with Sam… He tried to pull more thoughts together, tried to focus his eyes, tried to move out of his painful stance. His head hurt so badly and movement for some reason was not possible. Where’s Sam? What’s happened? Where the fuck am I?

 

Within seconds he knew that whatever had restored his awareness had been pain, insane, unknown pain.

 

Around him the gang burst into sadistic laughter as Dick viciously rammed his fingers into Dean again and again and again, each time forcing his way deeper into the tight, hot channel. With each new violation another muffled cry of pain escaped the still slightly dazed hunter’s lips. With each sharp tearing pain, he struggled harder against his bonds. Willing his captured limbs to buck and rise, he grunted in utter frustration at the reality of being at the total mercy of the man abusing him. 

 

Oh, my God! Where’s Sam? What have they done to Sam?

 

From somewhere behind his attacker in answer to his fearful thoughts, Sam’s voice boomed out, full of seething hatred and rage. ”Leave him alone! Dammit! Leave him alone! You fucking bastards!”

 

The disheveled group roared with laughter at Sam’s adamant demand, despite his helplessness. Dick pointed at the tall livid hunter with a nasty grin, “Somebody wanna shove something in that kid’s mouth?” Pausing to chortle wickedly, he added, “Oh! That’s right you all already did that! Didn’t you? Sweet, sweet Sam!”

 

Again they all hooted and hollered vulgarities at his obscene jokes.

 

“Hey, Sam, you can suck mine again!” someone called out.

 

Sonny grabbed at the gag still looped around Sam’s neck and dragged it upward forcing the bulk of it between Sam’s teeth.

 

Dean managed with immense determination and a great deal of pain to twist his head around far enough to glare in their direction after the comment about his little brother’s abuse. Catching Sam’s frantic eyes the look of physical pain in Dean’s own bottle-green eyes quickly switched to severe emotional pain, an unspoken apology over not being able to protect his much loved little brother.

 

As Sam grunted at the frustration of being gagged once more, Dick grinned in his direction. “Think Dean wants a little pain reliever here, Sam? Fun’s just beginning for him.” To emphasize his point, he again viciously drove his fingers as deep into the older hunter’s ass as they could reach, flashing a satisfied smile at the deep groan it prompted. “Shit! Just about 2 a.m.! In Dean’s honor I swallowed one of those little blue pills my wife hates so badly. Sure hope Dean’s as much of a party animal as you are, Sammy!” He turned to display for Sam the large, fully engorged cock standing at full attention between his legs, stroking it obscenely. 

 

With plenty of pain-causing wiggling and twisting, Dick reluctantly extracted his bloodied gloved fingers from their niche. Walking around to the other side of the table, whiskey bottle in hand, he roughly stripped the gag from Dean’s mouth. Instantly Dean loosed a string of obscenities a mile long, ending with, “ You hurt my brother, you sonuvabitch, and I’m going to kill every last one of you! You fucking lowlife slime! I swear!”

 

Silenced by the bottle knocking hard against his lips and teeth, Dean winced as Dick twisted his head unnaturally around to ensure the liquor would be swallowed. “Just take your lesson like a man, Dean! Sam did. He did it with such enthusiasm! May have taught him a whole new way to make some serious money. Your little brother can deep throat a cock better than any whore I’ve ever seen! Just ask any of the boys. They can’t wait for a second helping.”

 

Swiveling his hate-filled eyes onto his tormentor, Dean swallowed the booze foisted upon him. Another choking huge chug and his eyes teared up at the alcohol surge. As the bottle left his lips so did another string of vile words. The gag was shoved viciously back into place, as Dick admonished calmly, “Dean! Dean! Dean… Such language in front of your sweet little brother! What kind of example is that? Sam was such a good boy. Maybe we can get him to try you on for size when we’re all done with you. Might give you boys an outlet for all this nasty rage.” 

 

“Well… suppose we need to get this little dog and pony show started… Everyone wants his own little piece of you when I’m done. We haven’t had anything as sweet as Sam in ages…. and you… Well, you are just such a delicious tight-ass! Mmmm…Mmmm…”

 

The bestial pack responded with perverse comments causing Dean to renew his futile struggling. He had to get loose, to somehow save Sam from further abuse. He cursed himself for not having been strong enough to withstand the violent attack outside the tavern. He should have sensed it coming somehow. Oh, God! Sammy, I’m so sorry!

 

Sam’s heart nearly leapt from his heaving chest as he watched Dick moving around the table. He was now certain he couldn’t free Dean before Dick would rape him. His mind raced to formulate some semblance of a plan. His heart’s insane thudding made even thinking a monumental task! At least now he was within spitting distance of Dean’s discarded boots and that vicious little boot knife he’d carried since childhood.

 

“Well, if everybody is all comfy and has a good view, let’s get started.” As Dick stepped up behind Dean again, he glanced around, cursing out loud. “Damn it! Damn it all to Hell! We were so excited about getting the boys to our little ‘weinie’ roast tonight we forgot the fucking lube! Hate to tear this one up too bad, too fast! Ain’t no fun if they pass out every other stroke, or worse yet, bleed all over ya’. Fuck!”

 

Suddenly, Penis Two’s whiskey-soaked brain came to life. “Wait, Dick!” he spat out. “Don’t ruin him. Don’t tap his ass yet! I’ll be right back.”

Almost falling as he scrambled to pull up his underwear and jeans, he stalked off toward the van across the lot.

 

As he retreated Dick wasted no time watching the man, but turned instead toward his new ’plaything’. “Hell, don’t know what Tim’s going after but me I’m thinking time’s a’wastin’, boys.” Wetting his gloved hand again, he slowly, laboriously, gleefully poked his index and middle fingers back inside of Dean, chuckling at the hunter’s tortured sounds as the fiery alcohol burned into the already abraded channel. As the bestial bastard twisted and jammed the digits repeatedly in and out, deeper and deeper, Dean tried to hold in the pain, to not give the animal any added satisfaction. Try as he might his traitorous body still produced pain-filled grunts and tortured moans, much to everyone’s obvious delight.

 

Sam winced with each sound and silently tugged and tore at his rope-bound wrists, feeling his warm blood trickling down to his fingertips. Desperate to free his brother from the obscene, humiliating violation and torture he was being forced to submit to, Sam would endure whatever was needed. Suddenly Sam caught a sharp blow to the backs of his knees, knocked off balance, he landed hard on his shins. Momentarily at eye level with one another the hunters exchanged defiant glances. Escape! Escape by any means necessary! 

 

Sam prayed that Dean had seen the glimmer of a plan in his blue-green eyes, a faint glimpse of hope, of an escape plan. He wanted Dean to know that he would do everything in his power to save him, to save them… or die trying. Sam’s thoughts were quickly redirected as Sonny, finding his cock reactivated by Dick’s actions, grabbed a fistful of Sam’s hair.

 

“Hey, boy! Let’s show your big brother what a talented little bitch you really are!” Without further ado he roughly tore the gag from Sam’s mouth and forced his swollen dick between Sam’s bruised lips. 

 

Dean screamed with titanic rage through his own gag, his body trying to lunge as far as the biting ropes would allow, desperate to protect his little brother. Behind him, Dick loosed a hearty laugh, “Yeah! Why waste a good thing, hey, Sonny?” Dick chuckled as he spoke, “Now, now, Dean boy, you just need to worry about yourself right now. You got your own talents to develop! I’m gonna help you do it!” 

 

As Sonny pumped obscenely in and out of Sam’s mouth, Dick mirrored the actions as he finger-fucked Dean with renewed enthusiasm. The little clearing reverberated with the pained grunts and groans of the hunters and the pleasured moans and vile words of their abusers, accompanied by Freddy’s drunken snoring. The quiet, fifth guy was now ‘jacking-off’ to the ongoing attacks as he impatiently waited for his turn with Dean.

 

Breathlessly, Penis Two reappeared with the fruits of his van search. He tossed a box of condoms onto the table. “We better use those… As my mama would say ‘you never know where they’ve been’.” With that they all laughed, nodding in agreement. His other hand held a jar of Vaseline. “Knew I’d put a jar of this somewhere in the van. Shit was in my ‘tool’ box! Guess that was the right place for it.” Again, raucous laughter rang out.

 

Seeing the occupied kneeling Sam, Penis Two grinned at Sonny, “Save me some of Sam, Sonny. Don’t be a little piggie, now.” He ruffled Sam’s hair on his way toward the table. Yanking the cap off the jar he scooped out some lube and smeared a big gob onto Dean’s ass just above Dick’s deeply embedded fingers. 

 

Dick withdrew only long enough to push most of the lubricant inside of Dean with a delighted smirk. He chuckled at the squishy, sucking sounds as he again worked his fingers in and out, in and out. Dick now plunged a third finger inside of him, eliciting a louder yelp of pain from the green-eyed hunter. “Oh, sweet cheeks! Just what the doctor ordered. Tight and well-lubed!” Pausing for a moment, Dick thrust his free hand between the tortured man’s thighs to grope for a moment, “Whoa! Nice prick there, Dean. Might even be bigger than mine! Guess all this exciting action’s a real turn on for you, too. Glad to see you’re enjoying yourself!”

 

Turning to Penis Two and the preoccupied Sonny, he directed, “Finish up, huh? Don’t want Sammy-boy to miss Dean’s little lesson. After all, we learn from our elders’ mistakes!” Waving the waiting #5 to move up really close, Dick pulled his fingers free, yanked off his rubber surgical glove and tore a condom from its pouch. As he donned his ‘little raincoat’, Dick motioned for the other man to plunge his own fingers into the bloodied orifice. “C’mon, Doug! Get a little sneak preview of the coming attractions. Tight, huh?”

 

The fifth guy, Doug, worked two fingers slowly into Dean, making a deliberate total exit before roughly jabbing them back in, three times in quick succession as Dean bellowed in pain. “Fantastic! Tighter than my ten year old nephew! Dammit! Hurry up, Dick. I’m next in line!”

 

Just then Sonny was coming in spades, moaning like a girl, holding Sam’s head still as his cum filled the boy’s throat. The instant Sam felt his hair released he pulled away and pitched forward, chest to his thighs, leaving the spent cock in his wake. Retching hard, he spit the vile fluid into the grass. 

 

Sonny immediately grabbed Sam’s hair again, forcing him to rise to his knees, holding his head up and turning his face to the spectacle of Dick sliding his knees into the slot between the kneeling Dean’s bound calves. 

 

Unable to even swallow the furiously, hammering heart that had risen into his suddenly constricted throat, Sam breathed, “Oh, God! No!” almost as a prayer.

 

 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%


	4. Chapter 4

Rack Up The Balls! Part Four

 

 

Sonny yanked Sam’s gag back into place and with a painful backwards jerk on Sam’s tresses made sure the younger hunter couldn’t look away.

 

Sam watched in mute horror as the four standing rapists began a taunting countdown to Dean’s total violation.

 

“10!… 9!… 8!…” Dick smacked his hand on Dean’s bare ass in time with the first five numbers.

 

“5! …” As ‘5’ rang out Dick switched to butting the swollen head of his cock threateningly against Dean’s lubed, tight hole with each new number. Sam could almost feel the terror building in Dean with each vile fleshy contact.

 

As the screaming, chanting hyenas gleefully shouted “1!” Dick rammed hard into Dean, forcing the thick, bulbous head of his cock through the tiny opening.

 

Sam would NEVER, EVER forget that horrible primal scream torn from Dean’s lips at that horrendous, life-shattering moment. It was seared into Sam’s soul and heart and would remain there even if Sam lived to be one hundred. Never had Sam heard a sound so gut wrenching, so heart-rending! Instantly, Sam spasmed, vomiting around his gag what little contents his stomach still held.

 

Laughing maniacally, Dick thrust several painful, short, hard strokes into Dean. His voice was an angry growl as he snarled loudly at his victim, “Don’t you dare fucking faint on me, boy! You stay with me! You faint and we might have to see if Sam would like this lesson better! You play this game my way!! You stay with me on this! Don’t you dare faint!”

 

Suddenly, Dick jerked free of the violated hunter but only long enough to shove his Viagra enhanced cock deep into the Vaseline jar. Tossing the jar aside, he was once again mounting the young man, breeching the small, torn orifice with such sadistic thrust and power that the hunter had to struggle to breathe, push himself to his limits to not pass out. With each vicious ensuing push Dick sunk deeper and deeper inside until all eight inches were buried in the hot, slick channel. 

 

With each horrific pain, Dean sunk deeper and deeper into a dark nearly overpowering desire to retreat into that wonderful walled fortress within his mind and soul, to simply shut everything down, shut everything off. He knew he could escape from what was happening to him; he’d done it before. He just needed to block it all out of his conscious mind. No! No! Sam! Wait! They have Sam! I can deal with this!

 

With each violent slamming plunge Dean loosed yet another stifled scream. Finally, tiring of the slow pace he had maintained, to entertain his deviate pack of jackals, Dick began to fuck Dean in earnest. Ramming. Reaming. Jamming. Screaming. The tortured sounds from the blond boy came non-stop as the bastard used the boy’s own hips as grips to impale him repeatedly, while his attacker wallowed with delight in the boy’s agony.

 

Quickly realizing that all the pieces of vermin gathered around the table were engrossed in the ‘show’ as Dick had called it, Sam saw his window of opportunity. With the other men’s eyes riveted to the scene of abuse before them, no one gave a passing thought to Sam. Pitching himself sideways onto the ground, Sam managed to land between the drunken, sleeping Freddy and Dean’s boots. Sam gratefully found the boot closest to his bound hands was blessedly the one containing that wickedly sharp, little knife Dean had always carried.

 

With his hands tied behind him, it was a struggle but Dean’s life was in those same bound hands and Sam knew he had to succeed. Sliding the blade from its sheath, he maneuvered it clumsily but quickly through his bonds. Once again he glanced at the group, relieved no one saw him as a threat. Tearing the vile, vomit-soaked gag from his mouth, he wormed his way carefully beneath the rough wooden table Dean was pinned to. Sam wanted to make eye contact with his battered brother but knew it might betray his position to their captors. He watched as Dean’s chin, jutting over the edge of the weathered planking, rubbed again and again against the wood with each ramming move, abrading the skin until it was bloodied and torn.

 

Suddenly the pack was chanting in a feeding frenzy. “Fuck him harder, Dick! Faster! Make him scream!”

 

The table rocked harder than ever and Dean’s horrible screams increased as Sam tried to shut out the vile voices now joined by Dick’s sadistic crowing, “Oh, Dean! That’s my little bitch! Sing! Sing for Daddy! That’s a boy! Louder! Oh, baby, what a sweet ride! Best I’ve EVER had!” 

 

Sam cut quickly through the rope wrapped around his brother’s chest, then quickly reached out to momentarily encase Dean’s clenched left fist inside his own, to give him some hope the end was near. He wondered if Dean was even able to feel it.

 

From above, Dick’s voice growled “Deanie-boy, you and Sam are gonna wish you’d driven right on through our little town.” 

 

In for a surprise here, Dickie-boy! Just give me a minute! Sam smiled grimly as the little knife did its job. 

 

As Dean felt Sam cut the ropes around his legs and then sever the cord binding his right wrist, he forced his mind to switch gears in total Dean Winchester fashion. The concussive nausea and throbbing in his still swollen brain, the searing pain radiating through his back and haunches, the torn ass…all ordered him to lie still, to rest, to surrender to the darkness seeking to envelope him… comfort him. Only his all-consuming love and passion to protect his Sam was able to set Dean in motion! Burying his agony beneath a ton of ‘big brother’ determination he gathered his strength and thoughts. He had to do this!

 

As the left wrist was released, Dean dragged his nearly numb hands up onto the table planting them beneath his chest. With a Herculean effort he managed to lift his head, and suddenly push upward, tearing the gag from his mouth, loosing one last enraged, terrifying roar of pain and anger! With that mighty heave he pushed himself up and onto his knees ‘de-horsing’ his bastard rapist in the process.

 

Landing on his bare ass, stunned, pants tangled around his shins and ankles, Dick loosed a string of obscenities, followed by,” Grab that fucking guy!” Looking to where Sam had been kneeling only minutes before, he screamed in panic, “Shit! The other one! Where the fuck is the other one? Find him!”

 

As Dick scrambled to regain his feet with every intention of rendering Dean unconscious so he could finish the job, someone tagged his shoulder.

 

The voice sounded self-assured, in control and very pissed off. “Looking for me, asshole? Well… you found me!” As Dean’s rapist tried to turn his head and move away, Sam grinned in grim triumph as his booted foot rammed brutally into Dick’s chin and throat. Unconscious, the human pile of shit collapsed where he sat.

 

Sam was immediately at Dean’s side, wanting to minister to his brother’s injuries. With an angry glare, Dean gasped “No, Sam! Later! …I’m okay… I’m…fine. Stop them! We need them all!”

 

As soon as the shock of their victims gaining their freedom had worn off, the drunken gaggle of rapists had turned tail to try and escape the wrath about to descend upon them. 

 

Although just being able to stand was physically taxing, Dean never batted an eyelash as Sonny tried to run past him. Swinging up a stiffened arm he had no difficulty ‘clothes-lining’ the overweight trucker, and that brought at least a grim smirk to the hunter’s bloodied face. A quick punch to the man’s jaw as he fell, dropped him into blackness.

 

Sam bolted across the area like a gazelle, as he spotted Penis Two and #5 heading for the van, clutching their undone pants around their hips. Not knowing who had the van keys, Sam knew he had to take them both down fast.

 

The men found their legs were no match for the tall muscular hunter flying in hot pursuit. His pure hatred and vengeful spirit urged Sam on, fueling his chase. He closed the distance on Penis Two first, stopping him with a vicious kick to the thighs. As the man fell, Sam grabbed him by the hair and delivered three powerful blows with his right fist. A meaty sounding crunch meant at least a broken nose. As he dropped the senseless bastard, Sam grinned and moved on.

 

Without pausing, he was on #5 in a heartbeat’s time. The ‘pig’ threw his arms up to protect his face, whining loudly, “Don’t hurt me… I didn’t do nuthin’! I never put my cock in either one of you. Lemme’ be!” 

 

Sam‘s mind spun back to this guy with his fingers buried deep inside his big brother, crowing jubilantly about what a great conquest this would be! Without hesitation, Sam threw two long-legged devastating kicks into the man’s groin. Smiling at the screaming response, Sam caught him by one ankle dragging him facedown all the way across the lot back towards Dean. One hard punch to the temple easily put #5 out of action as Sam finally tired of his twisting about and screaming. 

When they got back to the table, Sam found Dean struggling to find a position of comfort. He had managed to pull his boxers into place at least, trying to regain some dignity. His breathing was horribly strained and his heartbeat erratic as Sam attempted to perform a bit of on-site triage. The head-wound would require several stitches and the chin damage needed cleansing to avoid infection. The rope abrasions on Dean’s wrists would have to be cleansed and wrapped. But the worst physical damage Sam had no idea how to repair. Bright red blood continued to trickle from beneath the butt of Dean’s boxers soaking into the fabric of the jeans gathered at his knees. 

 

As Sam opened his mouth to question Dean regarding the main damage, Dean warned him off with that patented Winchester dark glare. The one that always warned Sam when he was treading on dangerous ground. “Later, Sam… I said… LATER! I need to know how YOU are. What exactly did they do? Do you need medical care? Let me see.”

 

Moving within Dean’s limited pained reach Sam allowed his older brother to inspect his few bruises acquired during his oral abuse. The hateful look in Dean’s eyes hardened to pure loathing for the filthy unconscious sex-crazed bastards surrounding them, as he inspected his little brother. “Sam, what did they do? The truth!”

 

Sam looked Dean dead in the eyes and spoke softly, embarrassed that his own ill treatment seemed so minimal compared to Dean’s devastating abuse. “Really, Dean… It was just oral. Nothing more than that... Honest!”

 

Dean’s green eyes sparkled from the moisture gathering along his long, thick lashes. “Oh, God! Oh, Sammy… I’m so sorry… I didn’t know. I should’ve seen this coming… I should’ve protected you!”

 

Sam pulled Dean close, an arm encircling his shoulders, “ Shit, Dean. It was my turn to protect YOU, for a change. I’m the one that failed! I’m so sorry…”

 

As they locked brotherly sympathetic eyes for only a moment Sam saw the protective veil slide into place, as Dean ‘bit the bullet’ and toughened his stance. Turning to look at the scattered bodies, Dean breathed out quietly. “We have some trash to take care of first!”

 

Straining painfully Dean tried to bend to scoop up some coils of extra rope lying on the ground nearby. Sam shadowed him like a wisp of smoke, seizing any item Dean seemed to fancy. Moving back toward the table they laid out the trucker’s ball cap, two of the men’s shirts and quite a bit of usable rope salvaged from Dean’s and Sam’s own bindings.

 

“I need my knife, Sam.” Dean’s trembling hand grasped the little weapon as it was offered, his other hand on the table top supporting his weight when his quivering legs began to buckle. With great difficulty Dean managed to cut the longer ropes into workable lengths. “Hey, bro’, do you think you can manage to tie all of them up? Want their hands behind their backs to start with. Face up, in a row.”

 

Crossing the parking lot, Sam bound Penis Two first and dragged his bloodied form back to the picnic area and set about restraining the others. Dick began to rouse as his hands were yanked behind him and Sam took great satisfaction in purposely breaking the horrible monster’s nose! The last to be tied up was Sonny, who had slept through most of the action after he’d forced himself on Sam.

 

From Dean’s position, he gestured toward the bodies now lying in a rather haphazard row, “Grab all the cell phones, Sam. Gotta find those truck keys, too. Wish I had my Bowie knife… Shit!”

 

Moving directly to Sonny, Sam wrenched the Buck knife from his pocket and with a warning ‘heads up’ whistle tossed it toward his brother. Grabbing the weapon as it sailed through the air, Dean smiled, “Oh, yeah! That’ll do nicely.”

 

“What next?”

 

“Tie each guy’s right leg to the next guy’s left leg.” Seeing Sam’s questioning look, Dean mumbled, “Just trust me, okay?”

 

Once his strange task was completed, Sam stood back chuckling as he inspected his work. “Looks like a garland of demented paper dolls.”

 

Returning to stand beside the clearly weakening Dean, Sam watched as the older hunter continued to cut long cloth strips from the shirts they had taken.“

 

“Too many gags, Dean. Only have five of these dickheads.’

 

“Not gags.” Dean kept cutting.

 

“Bandages? For us?” Sam queried.

 

Turning slowly, and obviously very painfully toward the strung out row of disgusting human vermin, Dean paused, just closing his tired green eyes for a long moment before answering.

 

“No, Sam. Tourniquets… ”

 

“For you?” Sam’s heart skipped a beat.

 

“No, little brother… “ Dean’s eyes swiveled to meet Sam’s. “For THEM…”

 

 

TBC

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%


	5. Chapter 5

  
Author's notes: Well, a little payback is dealt out by our heroes....  


* * *

Rack Up The Balls! Part Five

 

 

“Tourniquets, Dean?! What do we need those for?” 

 

At least, Sam figured, throat slitting must be off the vengeance menu, since a tourniquet under that circumstance would work about as well to stop the flow as a screen door on a submarine. 

 

Dean’s voice was void of any emotion, “Look, Sammy… It might be better if you just sit this one out. Don’t really want you implicated if this shit goes south.”

 

Seeing the numbed expression on his brother’s face, that face usually so handsome and full of life, Sam could only inhale sharply and look away in pain. His eyes passed quickly over the wanton group of inhumanity, all trussed up and waiting for justice to be meted out. God help you! Because I sure as fuck won’t!

 

He had no idea what Dean’s plans were exactly, but after seeing what had been done to his strong, protective brother, Sam honestly didn’t give a shit. Not a shred of decency existed in any of these pieces of trash! They had shown no mercy to either of the brothers and were therefore deserving of none in return. Without a shadow of a doubt Sam was certain that even ‘gutting’ each and every one of this group was something he was fully capable of, most likely with little or no remorse. Nothing the hunters conceived of doing to these beasts, masquerading as men, could ever erase the horrors they had forced upon Dean. No punishment, no matter how harsh, could ever restore Dean’s dignity, his sense of strength… his wholeness of spirit.

 

These filthy bastards could never understand or appreciate that his loving, strong brother would have selflessly thrown himself into the jaws of unfathomable, supernatural evil to save any one of them if they were in need.

 

Sam hated them all with a passion and rage he had never known before. Even HE was afraid of the darkness his soul felt towards these creatures.

 

Without another thought he turned to face his broken hero. “Just tell me what to do… You’re in no condition to do anything more than just stand and give directions, Dean. I will handle this!”

 

As Sam saw the unspoken question of absolute certainty rise in Dean’s deeply pained eyes, Sam dispelled it with a simple, terse “Dean, I’ve got this. I. Want. To.”

 

Dean flashed a grim tight-lipped smile along with an almost imperceptible nod of his still-throbbing head. “Thanks, Sam. Okay, first thing we’ll need is all the drivers’ licenses. If this thing backfires I want to know names and addresses.”

 

Grabbing a fistful of cloth strips from the table, Sam decided to do double duty, first gagging each man before the pulling the wallet from his pants, rifling as well for loose cash.

 

Returning to Dean, the young hunter dropped the motley collection onto the table and as he searched for the licenses, removed all available cash as well. Handing his older brother the plastic state-issued cards he quickly counted their newly acquired funds. “Damn, Dean. Bastards had nearly twenty eight hundred in cash on them. Damned Dick had nine hundred just on him. We can use this for a place to stay and medical supplies. What’s next?” he asked, shoving the money deep into a pocket. Damn bastards! This attack had nothing to do with the money Dean won! You picked the wrong visitors this time! Fuckin’ assholes!!

 

Suddenly Dean gasped sharply, closing his eyes for a moment, as blinding, intense pain overtook him. Pushing his lungs to breathe deeply, he shoved down the immediate urge to vomit. As usual, he would get this under his control, but even he knew this would take a monumental effort. 

 

Constant pain around his bleeding ass gave the sensation of his intestines trying to leave his body. Though he knew that to be untrue he had to consciously resist the natural urge to clench his butt cheeks knowing it would only worsen the pain. Never in his life had he endured pain of this magnitude. It had actually hurt less the time the claws of that werewolf had laid his belly open.

 

Perceptively Sam was instantly at his side. ”Let’s get your boots on, Dean. We’ll leave the jeans down and undone ‘til we get ready to leave, but your boots will help you stand more balanced. Okay?” 

 

Leaning with one hand on the table to support his weight, Dean cautiously lifted his left foot as Sam gently pushed the boot on. After the right boot was comfortably in place, Sam stood to offer a bit of newly found medicinal assistance.

 

Extending his hand he showed Dean two foil packets of Tylenol, “Lemme’ get you some whiskey to wash these pills down, huh? Found them in one of the wallets.”

 

Grateful for any form of pain relief, Dean tore the packets open with his teeth, pushing all four pills greedily into his mouth as Sam retrieved the liquor. Washing the meds down, Dean swallowed a second and third mouthful of the burning alcohol, hoping the liquid fire would help to ease his pain, at least long enough to get through what HAD to be done.

 

Several low moans signaled the awakening of some of the bound men. #5 attempted to roll over until he became aware that not only were his hands tied behind his back, but his legs were attached to the men on either side of him as well. Fred and Sonny were also moving but quickly realized there was nowhere to go.

 

Feeling somewhat renewed by the whiskey now coursing through him, Dean gathered his resolve to see this through. Swiveling his pounding head to study Sam’s haunted, strained face for a moment only strengthened his belief that they needed to fight fire with fire. This evil had to be stopped dead in its tracks.

 

“Sam, I’m going to ask you again if you want to back out. I CAN do this alone. These things don’t deserve to be called men. If we don’t put a stop to this now, it will happen again… to others, maybe even more brothers like us. Alone, it might take me a while longer and might end up being kinda messy and causing them more pain, but believe me… I. Can. Do. This.” Dean paused. waiting for Sam to mull it over.

 

“Dean… They did this to you, my big brother. They did this to us! We have to… I… have to…” Sam faltered a bit, his voice breaking, his eyes brimming with angry, emotional tears. Quickly though, that look was replaced by another, showing a calm steely resolve. Clearing his throat, his voice was louder. “They’ve done this kind of shit before! They said so. They have to be stopped! WE have to stop them… permanently. Just tell me what to do. Let me be your hands!”

 

Walking quickly to the half-naked, wide-awake Dick, Sam viciously kicked him in the ribs. Being one of the ‘end’ guys in the bound-together chain of creeps, Dick had one leg free and he stupidly tried to retaliate. That feeble attempt earned him a painful well-delivered kick to the scrotum. Dick’s raging scream, despite his gag, was music to Sam’s ears.

 

“If you want me to, I could slit all their throats without even flinching… Just tell me what to do, Dean.” 

 

As the incapacitated bastards heard Sam’s words, they struggled frantically to move, to speak… to cry out around their gags. Sam smiled, enjoying their panic and current helpless positions. Now, the shoe was on the other foot.

 

Dean grimaced painfully, gesturing for Sam to come to him. He held out Fred’s baseball cap with one hand and his own small boot knife in the other.

 

A grim look washed over the younger hunter’s face as he took the items. “Okay, what do I do, Dean?” his voice was deep and resonant in the small picnic clearing.

 

Frightened whimpers escaped several of the bastard bullies behind him. Sam was happy to hear it. Be afraid! Be very afraid!

 

Grabbing Sam’s hand in his for a moment, Dean held Sam’s gaze with his determined green eyes, “You’re positive about this, Sam?” At Sam’s unblinking head-nodding response, he continued loud enough for all to hear. “Not sure how you can control their resistance to this. Can’t see too much chance of them cooperating while you cut their balls off!”

 

Immediately the clearing filled with the anguished, fearful cries of the hyenas despite the gags being tied tightly. The pack of men lying helplessly tried to struggle, to kick out from their clumsy positions but found movement, other than uncoordinated leg wiggling, impossible.

 

Sam’s face split into a sardonic grin, “Okay. I can handle that, I think. Any idea if there’s a right way or wrong way to do it?” Sam looked at the men squirming frantically, thinking it might have been easier while they were unconscious. Hell, no point to punishment if the offender isn’t present and accounted for!

 

“Not sure. Never really done anything like this… But, hell, you’ve done some REAL hunting with Caleb and Dad and me, gutted deer and such… Can’t be that hard!” Dean offered, gingerly rubbing at his scraped and bloodied chin, deep in thought. His deadpan, off-hand delivery was so similar to a Bobby Singer response that Sam couldn’t help but laugh.

 

“Well, I’ll figure it out as we go along, I guess. Who do you want me cut first?” Sam gripped the little knife tightly in his right fist.

 

Dean looked down the disheveled row of filth, almost enjoying the sheer terror in the eyes that waited to see whom he would choose. He knew they all deserved what was coming and wanted to build the fear in them as they had done with Sam and him and others before them. They needed to feel what their victims had felt or they would learn nothing. He wondered if men such as these were beyond learning.

 

“I guess start down at that end with that Sonny-asshole. By the time you’ve worked your way through the first four I should be able to take care of Dick myself.”

 

The noise level rose as a crescendo of fearful shrieks and cries escaped the gagged men. Dean draped several cloth strips over his arm and moved to accompany Sam on his appointed round. “I’ll help anyway I can, Sam.” 

 

Sam stood towering over Sonny as the quaking man forced a scream of abject terror and outrage from beneath his gag. Addressing the bastard, Sam spoke in John Winchester’s measured Marine tones. “This is going to happen… one way or another.” Then echoing Sonny’s own earlier words to him, “You can make this easy or you can make this hard! I’d prefer the hard way myself, asshole!”

 

Dean wondered if it was possible to cower in a prone position, because he was sure that’s what was happening. Sonny tried to draw his knees together, which of course was hopeless, with one attached to #5 who was doing his best to try to clamp his own knees together as well, and so it went down the row! It would have seemed funny under any other circumstances.

 

“I guess tie it off first, Sam. And then slit it open. Don’t take the sack though, just the nuts!” Dean said matter-of-factly as if describing something done everyday. He dangled a cloth strip over Sonny’s body for Sam to take. Immediately the man went insane, screaming, crying, and trying to twist away. Then, to make matters even messier the nasty creature pissed himself in fear. 

 

Swinging a quick fist, Sam connected with the man’s solar plexus, hard. “You’re not going to just take your medicine like a man are you, Sonny? I could enjoy making this happen the hard way, believe me.” Dragging Sonny’s urine-splattered pants as far down as he could, Sam knelt hard on the man’s thighs. Taking the strip Dean proffered he quickly tied off the sack and calmly grabbed a handful. Looking up to Dean’s watchful eyes, he shrugged his shoulders and asked, “Just slit it open, you think?”

 

Dean shrugged as well, raising his eyebrows at the suggestion. “Guess so. Sounds about right.”

 

Sonny’s knife might have been better in some ways but Dean’s little silver blade was as sharp as a razor and the slice was done quickly, like a knife through butter. Sonny’s eyes bulged as the blade entered the sensitive sack, he screamed in pain trying to roll his body away from Sam and his weapon. Sam dragged the ball cap beneath the sack and then with a grimace of disgust slid his thumbs into the bloody opening to extract the gonads. They came out fairly easily as he stripped away the connective tissue. The bloody little balls plopped softly into the cap.

 

Glancing up at Dean’s anxious face, Sam chortled dryly, “Shelling nuts… Hmmm, a little like shelling peas. I did that with Jess a few times.” He was glad his little analogy made his brother grin even if only briefly. ”Not as messy, though.” 

 

Sonny continued to groan and grunt in pain as Sam moved on to #5, who whimpered miserably, tears pouring from his eyes, before Sam even touched him. Sam quietly performed all the same maneuvers, leaving the man choking on his own vomit as the little surgery was completed. Dean forced the man’s head to the side trying to keep him from choking to death on his own puke.

 

Freddy came next, though the trucker was still too drunk to really even realize exactly what was happening at first. But as Sam tied off his ‘boys’ and the tip of the blade entered the soft skin, he sobered up really, really fast! Squealing like the pig he really was, he too began to cry and twisted his head back and forth like a madman. To no avail…

 

Finally coming to Penis Two, Sam was nearly laughing at the apparent begging and pleading going on behind his gag. Two kept shaking his head in protest and trying to be heard, despite the wad of cloth in his mouth. Sam was not moved in any way. Just like all of your victims begged, you fucking, uncaring bastard! Sam reached out ruffling the man’s hair with his bloody hands and muttered, “See, I saved you some. I know you wanted us to be together again! Happy now?” Penis Two fainted dead away as the knife entered the scrotum.

 

Pushing himself upright to tower above the whimpering, groaning bloodied trash, Sam glared down at Dick. Toeing the bastard hard in the nuts, he turned toward Dean. “What about him, Dean? Same thing?”

 

Dean stared down defiantly, angrily at the now frightened, trembling man. “Naw, Sammy. I got a special treat planned for this one. Hope he thinks it’s yummy!” The bitterness in his voice causing Dick to really cry out in panicked terror, as he realized the worst was yet to come.

 

Stepping to the table of his torture, Dean motioned to Sam. “I want him up here. Same position, I guess. Playing this one by ear for now.”

 

Untying the rope that attached Dick’s leg to Penis Two’s, Sam freed the head rapist from the rest of the group. Nothing he did was done gently, kicking the bound man again and again to force him to ‘body roll’ towards Dean and the table. The closer they got, the louder Dick’s fearful cries became.

 

Finally up against the wooden table leg, the man could go no further. Sam reached down with one long arm and literally dragged him to his feet by his throat. Dean stood quietly, twirling the big sharp Buck knife expertly between the fingers of his right hand, his left hand holding out coils of rope.

 

Dick struggled, trying to break free of Sam’s hands. With one brutal punch, Dean knocked him sideways, leaving him dazed. Sam immediately shoved him belly first onto the table, his hands still tied behind his back. Within minutes Dick’s knees and chest were immobilized, as Dean’s had been.

 

“His arms too?” Sam questioned. At Dean’s negative headshake, Sam moved to gather up the ball cap and the hunters’ little ’trophies’. Returning to his brother’s side for more instructions, he stood mute, listening to the continued cries and groans of their former tormentors.

 

“It’s just you and me now, Dickie-boy. I’ll push real hard to forget you and what you did to me, but you’ll always remember what I do to you. Guess I leave more of a lasting impression on people.”

 

Addressing the entire group, Dean stated loudly, “I want you all to know that I have taken all your IDs and if any of this EVER comes back on my brother or me… I will hunt you down. No one can protect you from me! It’s that simple. You have reaped what you’ve sown. You have gotten exactly what you deserved. For once in your lives try to act like men! Take your punishment. I will be watching the news every day and this had better NEVER come out with us to blame.”

 

Back to Dick, Dean made a grab at his dangling bag of balls. Rolling them about in the little pink sack, the brutalized hunter scoffed, “Shit! As small as these suckers are, you probably won’t even miss them!” 

 

No brotherly words were exchanged as Sam’s hand automatically slid in to tie on a tourniquet. Once again Sam slipped noiselessly into the background to watch his brother deliver a small amount of payback. He knew how badly Dean needed this to happen, to remove Dick as an ongoing threat to others, to begin Dean’s healing process. Sam resolved to support any action Dean deemed necessary.

 

Leaning over near Dick’s bent body caused Dean to hold his breath as he willed his body to deal with this new uncomfortable position. Closing his eyes a moment against the pain slicing through his brutalized ass, he gathered the final bit of strength needed to complete the task at hand. Just a few more minutes! I can do this! Dean forced the tip of the Buck knife into the skin and slowly, painfully sawed a raggedy cut from top to bottom as the bastard screamed in agony, desperately trying to move his body away. Dean chuckled humorlessly, mumbling unapologetically, “Jeez! Sorry, Dick! Not enough lubricant, I guess.” 

 

Stripping the balls from the fleshy sack, Dean tossed them on top of the mound already in the hat. Stepping to the end of the picnic table, he dumped the rather nasty mess on the tabletop. “Sam? You wanna rack up these balls for me?”

 

Sam laughed a tad insanely, “Let’s see… Four balls this row… three in this one… Two here and one at the tip.” His fingers deftly rolled the gonads into a pool ball triangle. “Seem to only be missing a cue stick here, Dean.” 

 

“Yeah… That’s true, isn’t it?” Moving back to Dick’s restrained form, Dean reached around the man’s left hip and slipped his hand beneath the screaming man, grabbing hold of Dick’s Viagra-induced hard-on. “Don’t worry, Sam. I think we found something.” 

 

That comment sent Dick over-the-edge, he screamed so dementedly his face was turning purple. Twisting and turning his head in a frantic attempt to somehow make eye contact and change the hunter’s mind. He was losing it. He desperately tried to move but moving anything other than his shoulders and head was an exercise in futility. 

 

Sam pondered how to staunch the blood flow on a penis amputation. Seldom had any of the Winchester men ever received injuries to the groin, so his experience in that area was terribly limited. Wadding up what was left of the shirts, he fashioned a type of free-form compress and stuffed it into the now empty ball cap. It’ll just have to do. Somebody will come before he bleeds out, I’m sure. If not… well… maybe the world will be a safer place!

 

Sam questioned whether Dean was up to this part. Bending over, to any degree had to be horrible agony for Dean. Slipping over to his brother’s side, the younger hunter could see that he was growing weaker. Finding it hard to be heard over the banshee screaming Dick was emitting, Sam leaned in close to loudly ask “Dean, do you need me to do this?”

 

With a firm shake of his head, Dean continued with the task in hand. With his left handed gripping the hardened shaft, he moved so he was leaning against Dick’s buttocks and with his right arm he reached around the man’s right hip with the tightly held Buck knife. The embrace sure wasn’t a pose Dean could hold for long but this shouldn’t take all that much time.

 

“Well, Dick, I can’t see any other way to make you stop what you’ve been doing. I can’t let you destroy any more innocent people. So… Say good-bye to the joystick.”

 

Speaking to Sam, for added effect, he verbally ‘twisted the knife’ before physically doing so, “One cue stick coming up, little brother!”

 

Dean felt nothing as he purposefully sawed through the meaty shaft with the big buck knife. However, that was not the case for his rapist! 

 

Dick screamed in immense agony as the cold blade was roughly seesawed through his engorged penis, peeing uncontrollably at first. Then, in the midst of a horrid primal roar of pain, he was suddenly choking. Retching and choking on his vomit, as the pain pushed his stomach contents to evacuate and he struggled to breathe.

 

Suddenly Dean’s hands dropped from Dick’s groin, crimson-coated knife gripped in his right, and the bloody still-stiff cock in his left. Dean felt a sense of relief as he made the effort to stand. He could still hear the voices of all the men clearly. This time though, it was not the swaggering, drunken obscene taunting and chanting group present during his painful, torture and rape but rather a group of whimpering, whining, hopefully repentant creatures.

 

All he knew was his work was almost done and he needed to rest.

Stepping away from Dick, the penis gripped like a trophy, he gave Sam access with the compress for the screaming bastard he had just ’fixed’. He could hear Sam murmuring some instructions to the man.

 

Sam’s quiet, controlled voice came through the haze forming along the edges of Dean’s conscious self, “Dean, come on now. We did what had to be done. Time to go.” The older hunter felt a gentle tug on his arm.

 

Instantly in a last flash of insanity caused by this whole fucking mess, Dean stepped quickly back to Dick and without benefit of Vaseline, he roughly and firmly forced the entire severed cock inside the screaming asshole before him. As the cock was shoved in so deeply it totally disappeared into the terrified man’s orifice, Dean slapped him on the ass, with a disgusted, tired grin.

 

“Dickie-boy, all I got to say to you is ‘Go fuck, yourself!’ Though you may want to use a lube next time!”

 

Sam smirked wickedly as he slid an arm around Dean’s waist. “Let’s get those jeans hauled up a bit and get outta here, hmm?”

 

As Sam bent to button Dean’s jeans, he glanced around at the whimpering human filth surrounding them. “Damn, Dean! Going to a picnic and leaving the picnic area full of ‘trash’ seems wrong somehow.” Glancing at his brother’s pained face, he reveled in the soft grin Dean now wore.

 

With the liberated keys in his hand, Dean gestured towards the van, “Guess with all that drinking, none of them are in any condition to drive, so we’ll just borrow this.”

 

Arms around one another for support they eased gingerly towards the vehicle. Both wore tight grimaces knowing there would be more struggles ahead once they reached the van.

 

TBC

 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%


	6. Chapter 6

  
Author's notes: All right, kids, time to play nice and do some much needed mending.  


* * *

Rack Up The Balls! Part Six

 

 

Sam walked slowly beside his brother, trying to match Dean’s pained, hobbled gait. His mind flipped through scenarios for being able to transport him in a somewhat comfortable manner. Things didn’t look too promising since he still remembered the first bumpy ride in that work van. Hell! I’ll think of something even if I have to tie him on the roof of the van. Impala back seat should be okay though…

 

The cries and groans of the rapists became more and more muffled, as the hunters drew nearer to the van. Glancing back, Sam felt no sympathy for the nasty bastards but didn’t really want five ‘sub-human’ deaths on his conscience either. 

 

“So, Dean, you gonna want me to call this mess in to the authorities?”

 

“Naw, Sam. Not yet. You gave that asshole a compression pad and the rest had tourniquets… Should buy us at least an hour. What time is it?”

 

“Nearly 4 a.m., suppose we should try to get as far away as we can, just in case us having their IDs doesn’t scare them enough.” Sam leaned Dean gently against the back doors of the van. “Let me see if we can soften this ride a bit, huh?”

 

Pulling the rear door open he poked around in the supplies strewn haphazardly on the floor of the vehicle and with a pleased “Aha!” reappeared.

 

“Just found a little floor cushioning here, Dean. Hope it’ll help. At least it’s the large quarter-sized bubbles! They’re the softest.” In his arms he cradled a thick roll of plastic bubble wrap. “Just gimme a few seconds!” Sam headed for the wide side doors. 

 

Dean was drawn back to awareness a few minutes later as Sam gripped his elbow. His head was throbbing and the nausea was returning but on a lesser scale at least. He wasn’t looking forward to lifting a leg high enough to scramble into the van. If it made him bleed more, he knew Sam would undoubtedly notice.

 

As they got to the open side doors Dean could see a six-foot long triple-thick layer of the plastic bubbles. Leave it to my favorite geek-boy! He was a little taken aback when Sam suddenly scooped him up in his arms like a child, gently maneuvering the injured hunter through the opening and onto the cushioned pad. “Guess I should travel face-down, huh, Sam? Use my hands to stay put.”

 

Making sure Dean felt relatively comfortable Sam closed the doors, got behind the wheel and started the noisy motor. “Hang in there, Dean. I think it’s only about a four-minute ride. Just stay awake, huh? I’m sure that’s a concussion. We’ll stop somewhere out of town for supplies.”

 

True to Sam’s ability to evaluate travel times, the hunters, in the borrowed van, slipped quietly into the rear of the tavern parking lot in just under four minutes. Dean’s beloved Impala was now the sole occupant. Sam had never been so happy to see the gleaming Detroit monster in his life. He would have to ask Dean to try to sit in the passenger seat until he was able to check out the head wound better. He wasn’t sure Dean could handle that.

 

Again, Sam took Dean into his arms as he lifted him from the van, carefully setting him on his feet, leaning against the passenger side of his shiny black car. Sam quickly gathered the bubble wrap and anything else that looked usable from the van, even snagging a couple of ‘girlie mags’ to keep Dean contented while he rehabbed. An unopened bottle of whiskey rolled forward as he moved some junk and Sam caught it as it plunged toward the gravel lot.

 

As if reading Sam’s thoughts, Dean suddenly volunteered, “Suppose I need to stay up front and awake ‘til we can fix my head, huh, Nurse Nightingale?”

 

Making eye contact, Sam nodded, “I’m really worried, Dean. You were out a long time. That gash looks pretty bad.” He could tell by his brother’s expression Dean was just as concerned.

 

“S’okay, bit more bubble wrap…” Sam arranged a spot on the driver’s right and after Dean got his painful posterior planted Sam gently lifted his legs into the car as well.

 

Steering the big car back onto the roadway he queried, “Where to first, Dean? I’m thinking closest motel to just clean your head wound a bit. Saw one of those ‘one-hour quickie’ motels just at the edge of town when we got here.” He glanced over to where Dean was curled painfully against the passenger door and window. Silent and dark...

 

“Works for me, Sam. But, we can’t stay long. Winchester luck says one of those bastards is the police chief’s brother or worse. Got enough stitches in the first aid kit. We’ll get anything else we need far from here.” With a soft gasp, Dean dealt with another painful spasm.

 

 

snsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsns 

 

 

Fifteen minutes later after a quick shopping spree at an all-night convenience store, Sam had physically carried Dean into a Spartan-looking little motel room ten miles down the highway. Using bottled water he washed and cleaned Dean’s head wound and after he put eight stitches along the nasty gash, used the ‘clean’ sheets dispensed at registration to fashion a compression bandage. The antiseptic wash would hold ‘til they got somewhere decent. Handing Dean three tablets and slipping extra Tylenol into his pocket for later, Sam got Dean to down an entire bottle of water to help with the shock and headache. Now the older hunter could sleep in the backseat with only occasional wake-up calls to check on the severity of the concussion.

 

The only selfish thing Sam took the time to do for himself was a five minute stay in the motel bathroom, where he used the new toothbrush he’d bought to scrub at his violated mouth, teeth, tongue and cheeks until his wrist hurt. After gargling an entire liter of antiseptic mouthwash he felt a little less disgusting and vile.

 

Another ten minutes saw them back on the road again, and forty-five miles later Sam stopped at a payphone to report a ‘dreadful mess at the little picnic park on Highway 15 to the Parks Maintenance people, who assured him they’d send a garbage crew straightaway. Very, very appropriate! Right form of transport even to the hospital for that gang!

 

 

Seeing Dean asleep in the back seat nestled into his bubble wrap and ‘borrowed’ motel blanket, Sam decided it was time to call in the reinforcements. Dragging out his cell phone he searched its ‘dialed numbers’ records until he located the ‘304’ area code. Thank God! I knew I’d have to call in a favor someday. Shit! Gotta be 3 a.m. in Oregon! She’s not going to be too happy with me. Here goes nothing… Not like I have much choice…

 

Sam dialed the number once he’d scrounged up a pen and paper, thinking if she was nice enough to help he could at least be prepared. A sleepy voice answered the phone. Sam quietly identified himself, relieved to hear Dr. Lee actually brighten, asking how he and Dean were. Sam decided honesty was the best policy this go round and after a brief retelling of the worst of the evening, Sam came away with a very detailed list of necessary supplies and a promise of more assistance once they located a base of operations. Closing the cover on his cell, he climbed back into the black beauty and headed to the next decent sized city.

 

Twenty minutes later they hit the outskirts of Little Rock. Following the hospital signs posted at a major intersection Sam tiredly pulled into the dark parking lot of the still quiet 120-bed hospital. He had to strike quickly before daylight brought an influx of employees and visitors. Parking in a quiet corner, Sam got his mind wrapped around his important task as he headed for the neat brick building. Time to get this little scavenger hunt started.

 

Slipping unnoticed into the emergency room entrance he gratefully found the security guard engaged in an animated discussion with a young nurse. Moving quickly around a corner, Sam ducked into the first doorway he encountered, hoping to escape detection until he got his bearings. He almost burst out laughing when he found himself in the deserted Interns’ Lounge. Snagging a set of extra tall scrubs from an open locker along with a canvas carryall, he hurriedly changed clothes. Stashing his duds in his new bag and moving stealthily down an empty hallway, Sam followed the signs to the Day Clinic. Stooping down he easily picked the lock on the main door and then, shopping list in hand, he moved soundlessly through a series of small examination rooms until he had deftly located and liberated many of the items needed. Temporarily stumped on finding the ointments on his list he suddenly got lucky! Spotting an elusive proctoscope in a small glass cabinet at the nurses’ nook he opened an adjoining cabinet on a hunch. Grinning in relief that both lidocaine and dibucaine were accessible in abundance he grabbed six tubes of each, tossing them into the bag on top of the stainless steel battery operated scope. Never know when we night need more of this stuff! 

 

He left the little clinic a happy hunter-gatherer, having secured everything on his list. As he approached the emergency room exit, heading back towards the parking lot, the guard’s voice stopped him cold. 

 

“Hey!” 

 

Sam’s heart missed a beat as he got ready to ’rabbit’, the Impala keys clutched tightly in his long fingers. Spinning a quarter round towards the guard’s desk, he answered, “Yes?”

 

“Just have a good day’s sleep, Doc. These damn all-nighters sure are hell, huh?” The guard smiled.

 

Sam breathed again, “Yeah. Yeah, they’re the pits alright!” With a friendly wave of his hand, he slipped through the big pneumatic doors galloping towards the Impala.

 

Pulling out of the parking lot he headed back to the open road, relieved that he would have nearly everything they needed. Stopping at the edge of town for a gas fill-up, Sam returned from a short expedition into the convenience store. Chucking the bags on the front seat he opened the back door to check on Dean’s responses to the questions they both knew by heart. Definitely a concussion but not severe, that was good at least. He would let Dean sleep ‘til they arrived at that hotel listed in the travel guide, he’d snagged at the cash register. Just what the doctor ordered! Too bad it wasn’t under better circumstances.

 

He’d purchased several quarts of electrolyte-laden drinks and had a short list of other drinkable foods Dean was permitted to have on this weeklong liquid diet, but those could wait ‘til Sam went to the drug store later. His mind wandered to how he would get Dean to agree to what had to be done, but it was beyond him at this point. With a deep sigh, Sam allowed himself to relax into the familiar comfort of the black leather seat. Plenty of time to think, later… 

 

 

snsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsn

 

 

One hour later, they had crossed the state line and were rumbling into the parking lot of the Happy Honeymooner Hotel just as the sun began to peek over the horizon. Definitely a bit gaudy even seedy-looking, but this place offered all the amenities the hunters currently needed… desperately. Besides, each individual PeptoBismol-Pink bungalow had not only large two-person garden tubs, but Jacuzzi jets as well. At nine hundred dollars a week it was a real bargain! With a small working kitchen and mini-appliances, Sam figured they were set for the week. Chuckling as he turned the heart-shaped key in their unit door, he gasped as he saw the rose pink interior. The manager had looked at him very oddly when asked if it was possible to get two queen beds or have a portable brought in, but for an extra fifty bucks of the rapists’ cash, had agreed to have a bellboy drag in an extra queen-sized mattress. Sam was thrilled… until he noticed the red satin sheets! Shit! Dean is gonna freak!!

 

Sam needn’t have worried. He gently helped Dean out of the car and guided him toward their room. Feeling grateful that at this fairly early hour no one was stirring in the bright pink cluster of buildings, he eased the bloodied man through the door. Not a word came from the older hunter until they eased into the large showy, lavender bathroom. “Shit! Sam, where are we? Some whorehouse?!”

 

“Nawww! Honeymoon haven of some sort, I guess. Came here because of the bathroom set-up, Dean. Really going to need this stuff this week.” Sam made no eye contact knowing the comment may have made Dean feel ill at ease. “Will you need any help with the shower?”

 

Dean shot him a hurt ‘you can leave now’ look, and glanced toward the shower area. Sam quickly dropped to one knee to remove Dean’s boots and socks. Dean laid a hand softly on his little brother’s head, “Thanks, Sam. For everything last night… I’m sorry.”

 

As he stood, Sam clamped a hand lovingly on Dean’s shoulder, “I’ll drag in our gear. Won’t be gone for long. Just holler if you need me. Manager says all the soaps and stuff are included.” Allowing Dean his privacy as his stiffly disrobed, Sam vanished through the doorway.

 

Dean appreciated the level entrance to the big shower stall, though he winced sharply as the hot water stung him, beating at his aching, abused body. Adjusting the showerhead to a harder, almost merciless flow was a painful challenge as his spine and buttocks stretched. Washing his bloodied hair, he tried to let the water take his pains down the drain. The hunter hurt to his inner core. Feeling as if someone had reamed him out with a gigantic corkscrew! Leaning his throbbing head against the cool pink tiles, Dean finally allowed himself to release his anger, his shame… his humiliation. His knuckles bled as he punched the tiles again and again in angry, quick succession, watching the blood from his injured hands wash downward to mix with the swirling, reddened water cascading from his brutalized ass. Loosing a heartbreaking howl, Dean threw his head back, allowing the salty rivulets streaming from his eyes to hide amidst the comforting steamy water. His now bruised hands trembled as he proceeded to scrub himself as hard as he could, he needed so desperately to remove any vestiges of that filthy bastard Dick. Somehow, he doubted there would ever be enough hot water or soap in the entire world during his lifetime to accomplish that. Sliding down the wall to sit huddled within the quaking arms he had wrapped around his shins, Dean wanted nothing more than to be able to forever vacate this ravaged body carrying the painful reminders of last night’s brutal attack. Dean sobbed quietly to himself. He felt as he had when he’d attacked the Impala after John had left them so alone and lost. Why? Why? How could this happen? Haven’t we sacrificed enough yet?

 

Hearing a soft thump in the next room, he pulled his head back into the game, rinsing away the tears and snot his pain had forced from him. His body, though still racked with tortured sobs, knew it needed to return to the living, to return to the only life he and Sam knew. Sam would not see him like this, could not see him like this. He had to be strong. He had to stay tough. Suck it up! Taking a moment to calm his breathing and his thoughts, he reluctantly shut the water off, climbed from the shower stall and wrapped a huge pink bath sheet around his hips with a frown. Pink!! My God!! I HAVE lost my manhood! 

 

As the hunter entered the sleeping area, he was surprised to see an additional sheeted mattress lying on the floor between the heart-shaped bed and the wall. Lifting his head to question its presence, Dean was taken aback to see Sam laying out an arsenal of new medical supplies on the bedside table. Fear struck his heart as he recognized the shiny stainless steel instrument that held the space front and center in the display. He unconsciously began to back away.

 

Glancing up, almost guilt-stricken, Sam quickly moved to slide an arm around his older brother’s waist, feeling the slight trembling that had set in at the sight of the proctoscope.

 

“Dean, don’t be like this now. Let me explain. Just let me explain… Please?” Sam spoke in gentle reassuring tones seeing the sudden fearful look in Dean’s pained green eyes.

 

“Sam, I can’t… I… can’t… Please? No! No….” the older brother was shaking his head fearfully, eyes huge, almost terrified.

 

“Look, Dean… I called Doctor Lee in Rivergrove.” The truth… “Told her another hunter had been raped” a lie… “and like us, medical treatment was out of the question.” …the truth.

 

Feeling the older man relax ever so slightly, Sam continued, “She told me everything I needed to get to make this as comfortable as possible. She said there’s no way we can avoid looking at the damage done. She stressed that if ‘the guy’ wouldn’t let us look at him, we’d do best to knock him out and get him to closest hospital. A bad tear in that area can kill you within days. We have to look. There’s absolutely no other way!” 

 

Dean’s words came out in gasps, “Sammy, I… I just don’t… I don’t think I… can do this… Can’t we… just… wait?”

 

“Dean, this will be easier than you think. Honestly. Doctor Lee gave me a list of all the things we’d need. She said she’s had the procedure done on her and it’s not painful if we do it right. You know I would never do anything to hurt you. Right?” Sam held Dean’s eyes gently with his own look of brotherly caring.

 

“Yeah… I know, Sam. I know you mean well. I just… “ His soft words trailed off apprehensively. The anguish on his face tore at Sam’s heart.

 

Sam had slowly been nudging Dean towards the heart-shaped sleep surface as they spoke, and as Dean realized their proximity, he stiffened, firmly planting his feet, like a deer caught in someone’s headlights. 

 

Sam addressed him directly and with absolute sincerity. “Dean, I promise you if this is too uncomfortable for you, I’ll stop. PROMISE. All you have to say is ‘Stop’. I will. I promise.”

 

Seeing Dean’s lingering desire to hold back, Sam was moved to pleading, “Dean, please…? We can’t let those guys win. We have to get past this. You can’t begin to put this behind you unless we can heal you. I can’t put it aside either. Not knowing this might kill you. I can’t lose you! Please?” He ended with the most pathetic puppy dog look Dean had EVER seen.

 

With a resigned sigh, Dean moved to stand beside the bed, ”But we can stop, right?”

 

Sam’s heart was aching as he watched the look of dread wash over Dean’s handsome face. Raising his hand, as if being ‘sworn in’ he reassured his big brother. “Just say the word and I will stop.”

 

Seeing that his little brother had laid a large towel on the bed as a sterile field, Dean struggled to climb onto the bed without destroying the layout and without causing more pain to his injured areas. He gripped the bath towel he still wore trying to maintain some temporary sense of privacy. Swallowing hard, with a look of quiet resignation, he asked, “Okay, what’s the plan?”

 

“Well, the doc says there’s two positions that work best. Guess you’ll have to lay on your side, though… I don’t think you can handle the chest to knees position…” In silence Dean rolled onto his right side facing the wall. Sam paused to see if Dean was good with that. No response other than a slight body shift, so he continued his simple explanation. “We have tubes of anesthetic ointments that will actually deaden the area, Dean. I think we should start there. Step by step, you know?”

 

Pulling on a surgical glove from the opened box he’d stolen, Sam winced, seeing Dean’s hard flinch at the sound of the snap of the rubber being pulled on. Oh God! Dick used these!! 

 

Stepping to Dean’s duffel bag before easing into the other glove, Sam removed the whiskey bottle he’d found in the van. Pouring a good four fingers into a water tumbler, he moved to hold it in front of Dean, “Think this’ll help you relax, Dean.”

 

Rising up on one elbow Dean twisted his head towards his worried little brother, a grim smile on his lips. “Thanks, Sammy.” He knocked it back in three swallows and reclined once again. Letting the internal dizzying heat relax him as he closed his eyes. 

 

“Dean, you’ll have to loosen your towel a bit… I’m sorry.”

 

“Oh… Yeah, Sam… Of course... Sorry.” Undoing the tucked in towel, Dean pushed it back away from his lower body, feeling Sam’s hand assisting him in staying at least partially covered.

 

“Dean, I’m going to apply some of this ointment on the outside first. I have the swabs Doc told me to get, so we can deaden the inside area too. I promise we’ll go slowly. Okay?”

 

“I trust you, Sammy.”

 

With that simple sincere statement, Sam knew he had Dean’s permission to proceed. He slipped on the second glove and taking a tube of the dibucaine, apply a heavy bead to his index finger. As the cool gel came into contact with Dean’s anal region, his abused body stiffened and he gasped out loud.

 

“Sorry, Dean… Hurt?”

 

“No…Just cold…”

 

“Sorry. Did the whiskey help, Dean? Need more? I’m just worried about getting you too drunk, ‘cuz when I’m all done, I’m supposed to call Doctor Lee with the results. She’ll fax some prescriptions for antibiotics and pain killers to a drug store here. The drugs should help more than the whiskey.” Sam knew he was babbling on and on nervously. He bit down trying to suppress that urge.

 

“Naw, I’m… good, Sam. Maybe a little more later.” Despite his brave words, Dean’s body stayed tense.

 

“Okay. Let’s test the area, huh?” Laying his gloved finger over the anal opening, Sam pressed gently. No reaction. He pressed more firmly and was relieved when Dean seemed to feel nothing.

 

“All right. How do we test it?” Dean sounded uncomfortable, waiting for the answer he was sure he didn’t want to hear.

 

Sam chuckled softly, “We already did… just now. You didn’t feel that?”

 

Dean was surprised. “Really? You did? Didn’t feel a thing, Sam. That’s good, huh?”

 

“Yeah, bro’. That’s real good. Think you can handle a little internal application now? I promise I’ll be careful… Ready?”

 

At Dean’s curt nod, Sam spread some of the anesthetic gel onto two of the long-handled cotton swabs. Laying a hand gently into the crevice between Dean’s perfectly rounded cheeks he spread them wide enough apart to have access for some internal numbing. The first swab slid in easily but Sam only inserted the slender cotton portion inside. When he tried to use the second one, the sudden stiffening of Dean’s body and sharp intake of breath, warned him away.

 

Quickly seeking to dispel Dean’s fear, he mumbled, “S’okay, Dean. S’okay. No need to hurry. We’ll just go slow and easy. Just inch long increments at a time maybe, huh? I’m so sorry.”

 

Dean relaxed and Sam waited another three minutes before trying again. How he hated poking around in ‘there’ blind! Looking at the swabs and the thickness of his gloved pinky he decided to try the next application digitally. It went quite well surprisingly, and Sam knew they’d be ready for the first exam very shortly. Doctor Lee had explained what he should be feeling and how any abnormalities and tears would feel. Sam prayed that his fingers would be as sensitive as he needed them to be. He knew that his brother was depending on him.

 

The next few minutes passed painfully slow, but finally he knelt beside the bed with the bright table light directed at Dean’s buttocks. He took a few deep breaths trying to clear his mind of anything but Dean’s ass. Shit! That sure doesn’t sound good! I have to admit it’s as handsome as the rest of him, though. No wonder the girls go wild!

 

Using his right index finger covered in gel as a probe, he began to ease it inside. “Dean, we’ll do the finger palpations first and in a few more minutes after this dose of ointment kicks in we’ll do the scope. Think you’re okay with that?”

 

Dean grunted a quiet “Yes,” and tried to think of anything but what was happening.

 

“Dean, I need you to lean a bit more to your right. That’s it… Right there. There, that’s perfect. Now, can you bear down a bit for me? Doc says it’ll make any damages stand out better.” Sam was amazed at how sensitive his untrained finger was to Dean’s moist interior. He could feel all the ridges and smooth tissue the doctor had described to him. He felt the angry, raised abraded area and… Oh, my God! A small tear! Shit! Damn… how long? Doc will want to know… Not too bad maybe. It’s the width of my thumbnail! 

 

Removing his gloves, he tossed them into the wastebasket. Hearing the sound, Dean tried to see Sam’s concerned eyes. “Well, Sammy? How bad is it? C’mon ‘fess up.” 

 

Sam chewed at his lower lip a few moments, thinking. “Doesn’t feel too torn, Dean. Really… We’ll know more after using the scope. You up to it? I want to have all the facts when I call Doc Lee.”

 

“Let’s be done with it, Sam. Just want it over with. We could both use some sleep. Do I have to change positions?”

 

Sam was never so proud of Dean’s bravery under pressure. He hated himself for putting his beloved hero through all of this so soon after the attacks but they both knew it was a necessity. “Okay. Guess if you’re ready, so am I. Let me at least warm this medieval torture instrument up a little... Don’t want to have to peel you off the ceiling, hey?”

 

Donning fresh gloves, Sam nested the stainless steel proctoscope in his large hands. The metal felt cold as ice. He couldn’t inflict that on Dean, not on top of everything else. Why does it look so much bigger now?? No wonder Dan was panicky when he saw it! Damn!

 

Soon it felt warm to the touch and Sam spread more dibucaine on his finger to make sure Dean would feel nothing, or as close to nothing as possible. Forcing his finger through the reddened orifice, Sam spread the gel as far inside as he could reach. Dean gave no acknowledgment to the intrusion, so Sam felt pretty confident it was good to go. It took a few moments to get familiarized with the scope, finding out how to trigger the battery-operated light and how to sight it properly.

 

Kneeling once more, he carefully and slowly slid the metal tube as far into Dean’s anus as it could go. Dean gave a soft grunt and gasped sharply as it hit its length limit. 

 

Panic filled Sam’s next words, “Dean, are you in pain? Is it too much? Tell me!”

 

Dean voice was strained and forced as if talking while he held his breath, “I’m fine, Sam. Just pressure, I think… Let’s finish this. C’mon. Back to work there, Procto Pete.” Dean chuckled softly, “You better be taking detailed notes though, ‘cuz we’re not doing this again for a long time!”

 

Ten minutes later saw Dean napping as Sam sat at the little white kitchenette, talking seriously with the fair-haired doctor in Oregon. She had listened to his report carefully, asking additional questions as they went along. Sam read her the phone number for a nearby local drug store from the phonebook and broke into a huge smile as she happily informed him that a week of bed rest and no solid foods should see Dean well on the way to being physically healed. On the pad of motel paper he jotted down the website addresses for some groups that dealt with the psychological aftermath of rapes, especially to males. Thanking the doctor profusely, Sam hung up and woke the dozing Dean to give him the good news.

 

Sam gave Dean a few Tylenol and a bottle of the electrolyte fluids and urged him to take a nice nap. He intended to sleep at least an hour or two, himself, before going after the meds ‘Doc’ was prescribing. Dean didn’t have to be told twice, and within five minutes he was sound asleep.

 

Twice in those two hours Sam was jerked from his own sleep by the cries of his beloved brother as the hunter’s mind relived the awful experience they’d had! 

 

“Sammy! God, no! Sammy! Not him!” Dean’s cries were pitiful and, as always, protective. Sam held him gently the first time and then monotonously stroked the soft hairs at the nape of Dean’s neck until he once again slept. after the second dream.

 

At last, Sam decided to just sit quietly on his mattress and wait for the next dream to hit. As he watched the older hunter sleep, he marveled at the way his brother was put together. Thinking back through the years of wanting nothing more from life than to be ’just like my big brother’, Sam realized he’d finally gotten his wish. They were hunters and they were together forever, he hoped. He felt so close to his brother and yet wanted to be even closer. He rested there, just waiting and watching.

 

Nearly two hours later as he opened the door to go for the prescriptions and more things for Dean’s liquid diet, a sleepy voice halted him. “Sammy, a nice greasy burger would taste really good right about now.”

 

Seeing the hungry look on Dean’s face, it pained his little brother to burst his bubble. “Uh, Dean… about that… Sorry to have to tell you this, but, per the doctor’s very explicit orders you are on a strict… very bland liquid diet for the next seven days. I’m so sorry.”

 

Dean’s dark frown prompted Sam to clarify the situation so Dean understood the importance of sticking with him on this. “Doc Lee said your bowels can’t handle any activity until you’re healed, Dean. If it makes you feel better we’ll do it together, so I don’t eat in front of you, okay? Purge both of our systems, you know.” Sam moved through the doorway adding, ‘When I get back we’ll watch the news see if they’re looking for us, huh?

 

With a groan, Dean pulled the pink comforter over his head, intending to sleep off his disappointment.

 

 

TBC

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%


	7. Chapter 7

Rack Up The Balls Part Seven

 

 

Sam gathered all his heavy plastic bags first, hoping everything would survive the short haul from the Impala to their hot pink stucco bungalow. Guessing that the other motel residents were taking full advantage of the amenities and heart-shaped beds in the honeymoon complex, he was grateful for the anonymity it afforded the hunters. Reaching onto the dash he snatched the smallest package, carrying it clenched in his pearly white teeth as he made his way to their doorway.

 

After a brief juggling struggle he was able to slide the heart-shaped key into the lock and push his way inside, despite his heavily laden arms. Grinning as everything arrived safely… almost. With a wet sounding crash as the flimsy handles tore loose from a over packed bag, Sam winced to see a quart of electrolyte water smashed among some dented plastic jugs. Shit! Well, that’ll wake him up fast!

 

Glancing towards the main bed, he was surprised to meet with the wide-awake green eyes of his supposed-to-be-sleeping older brother.

“Dean, man, I’m so sorry! Didn’t mean to wake you.”

 

Lying sprawled on his side, paging through one of the girlie magazines Sam had left on the nightstand, Dean smiled weakly. With a soft shake of his head, Dean waved away the apology. “Nah, Sam. I was awake already.”

 

“More bad dreams?” queried Sam, as he deposited the remaining supplies on the kitchenette table. Grabbing some paper towels, he moved to clean up the mess, but as his eyes moved once more to Dean, he noticed Dean answered with his eyes averted. Dammit, Dean! It’s okay to say ‘yes’. Rapes can give years of nightmares!

 

“Nope, think it was somebody’s door slamming!” he lied without looking up. He hated lying to Sam, but it was for his little brother’s own good. He won’t start healing if he thinks I’m that hurt!

 

“Got you some fairly decent choices for what you can have on this liquid diet at least, Dean. Nice selection of sports and energy drinks and Doc says you can at least have Jell-O.” Sam smiled encouragingly, trying to make the diet seem not so full of deprivation.

 

“Awwww, shit, Sammy… Like that green lime crud they had everyday in school? Excuse me for NOT getting all happy. I think I’d rather starve!” Dean grimaced disgustedly. “Lime Jell-O! Gross!” Then a smile flickered momentarily, “Only way Lime Jell-O might be good is with hot chicks wrestling in it at some strip joint!” He chuckled.

 

Tossing out the broken bottle remnants, Sam crossed to the table and reaching into a grocery bag with both hands, hauling out what he hoped might lift Dean’s spirits a bit. Fanning out several small blue boxes in between his long spidery fingers, looking like a magician doing a sleight of hand card trick, Sam moved closer to the bed. “Dude! Check this out! Jell-O comes in other flavors!! Who knew?”

He grinned triumphantly as he read the package titles proudly, “ Okay, so here we have… Margarita… Watermelon… Apricot… Pina Colada…

Hmmm, just plain old Cherry… then, Strawberry Daquiri… and last, but not least, my personal favorite… Berry Blue! Looks like jellied windshield washer fluid! Hope it tastes better.”

 

Grinning from ear to ear Dean began to laugh so hard he doubled over on the bed. The laughter pulled at him internally and he clutched at his abused butt, wincing in pain. Holding up a halting palm as he heard Sam drop the boxes to the floor ready to rush to his assistance. “I’m fine, Sam. It’s fine. Just a damned twinge!” he breathed.

 

Sam was at the grocery-topped table in an instant. Grabbing at the little pharmacy bag, he pulled out two amber prescription bottles. “Here are the meds Dr. Lee prescribed for you. Have to tell you what a great lady she is! Not only did she fax the prescriptions in for us, but the pharmacist handed back my money and said they were already paid for, said she had him put them on her clinic’s billing! What a great friend!”

 

Dean tried not to look too ‘needy’ as he eyed the bottles in Sam’s hand, but he was actually anxious to gulp down a pain pill. The sharp stabbing pains intermingled with the constant dull throbbing coming from both ends of his spinal column were beginning to seriously wear him down.

 

“So what’d we get? Good stuff, Sam?”

 

“Yeah, bro’. Lortab for your pain and… ummm…. Erm… Not even trying to pronounce this one! Anyway, pharmacy guy says it’s a really strong antibiotic. Works especially well for stopping infections, before they start. Says the doc sure knows her stuff.” Seizing a bottle of orange Gatorade, he stepped over to the bed to give Dean his first doses, breathing a sigh of relief after getting the medications started. Despite Dean’s reluctance to reveal the depth of the pain he’d felt a few minutes earlier, Sam knew he had to try to get him to relax more and give the pills a chance to work properly.

 

Moving to the dresser where their medical supplies were neatly laid out on a clean towel, Sam glanced at his watch. Just enough time to be sure the pain was well under control before the five o’clock news started. There had been some sense of relief when the Noon News mentioned nothing about the ‘picnic’ in the park, although Dean had been sleeping, Sam had made sure to watch it.

 

“Dean, I want you to work with me a little on this pain control. Dr. Lee had suggested that I reapply some of the dibucaine or lidocaine a few times a day for the first couple of days. Said it would give you some instant internal relief, ‘til the pills kick in.” Sam was standing by the heart-shaped bed now, one hand already gloved and a tube of anesthetic gel in the other. “How about it? Got about eight minutes until the news comes on. Make you feel better.” He smiled sympathetically and ended the request with his best puppy dog begging impression.

 

“Aw, Sammy. I’m fine really.” Just then, he was racked with a short coughing spasm as the Gatorade went down his throat wrong. As the sharp stabbing pain once again hit, bringing moisture to his green eyes, Dean knew Sam was right. Nodding his head silently, he slid his boxers low on his hips and rolled further toward the other side of the bed, exposing his muscular buttocks to Sam‘s ministrations.

 

Kneeling on the bed beside his older brother, Sam carefully spread Dean’s cheeks apart spreading some of the gel on his still angrily red orifice. Waiting a full two minutes for the medicated gel to deaden the exterior, Sam pressed gently to test the numbness. Dean’s lack of response said he was ready. Sam applied more gel to his gloved index finger and slowly, gently forced it inside. Working it around he made sure he spread the gel out well. A small grunt was his brother’s only reaction once his finger slid inside of him. Sam couldn’t help but be amazed at the tight elasticity of the orifice, as he had to maneuver the gel deeper into the injured area. Finally done, he carefully slid free of Dean, making no big production of what he was sure was very embarrassing to Dean. He gently tugged Dean’s boxers back up onto his hips and helped him roll into position to see the TV screen.

 

Removing and tossing the soiled glove into the red trashcan near the TV, the young hunter hit the power button and snagging the remote moved to sit on the bed near Dean’s feet. Sam flipped the channel button to a regional station he’d found earlier and right on cue the screen blazed to life with the logo and theme music for the Nightly News show.

 

Following several minutes of inane co-anchor chatter and a quickie update on the weather, the bland-faced male newscaster dropped his voice to a sonorous, no-nonsense tone and announced dramatically…

 

And in breaking news tonight… In a Channel 13 NEWS NOW exclusive, our very own Heather Hunnicutt will join us live from South End, Arkansas. She brings us a Channel 15 exclusive interview with one of the victims of last night’s horrendous knife attack on five local gentlemen … The loose use of this term had both hunters snorting in disgust.

 

Reaching up to tap sharply on his earpiece, the news anchor frowned… “Umm… Heather are you there?”

 

An outdoors camera shot panning across the front of the hospital quickly zoomed in to a close-up of a pretty young blond, smiling vapidly into the video lens.

 

“Yes, Charley, I’m here at South End Hospital and ask that you join me as I speak with one of the brave victims of last night’s bizarre, bloody attack. The five male victims were all local bar-goers, who were sadistically attacked by knife-wielding thugs and left to die in the South End Community Park along Highway 15. Follow me now as we enter the room of Fred Williams, a popular local truck driver, who is recuperating after last night’s harrowing attacks.”

 

The cameraman panned around the room to show Fred lying in his hospital bed surrounded by his mousy, fearful wife and a boy of about twelve years of age. Several floral arrangements graced the nightstand and windowsills.

 

Shoving the microphone in front of Fred’s reddened face, Heather seriously intoned, “Thank you for agreeing to speak with us tonight, Mr. Williams. Can you please tell us exactly what happened to you and your friends last night at the park?”

 

Sam mumbled indignantly over the girl’s voice, “Thugs!! Can’t wait to hear the spin those bastards put on this one! Left for dead, my ass!!” He grimaced the moment those last two words left his lips. Shit!

 

Even in his wounded mode, Dean caught it and spoke up, or maybe his pain pills did the talking, “No, Sam. It was my ass!”

 

Both hunters cringed visibly as Fred’s voice came through the TV speakers. Gone, however, was the sneering sadistic hyena, replaced instead by a man who actually looked quite normal and considerably shaken.

 

“Well, Heather, we all played pool together last night and then grabbed some extra whiskey and headed down to the park to … uh… ummm… hang out together. All of a sudden, all these motorcycles showed up. We were uh… outnumbered. This gang of bikers tied us all up and cut us up pretty bad. We all got pretty mutilated. Doctors said it’s nothing they can really fix ‘cause we waited too long to get medical treatment.”

 

“Were your injuries severe? Have the police gotten any leads on this biker group, Mr. Williams? And who was it that found you and reported the attacks?” the blond girl inquired causing Fred to look even more uncomfortable.

 

“The ummm... injuries were male-type injuries, I don’t think I can explain on TV exactly. The sheriff’s office said it’s like these biker guys just vanished into thin air! None of us could really identify them much. Bikers all look pretty much alike, you know. And uhh… we were rescued by the dump truck crew that cleans up the trash at the park, about 7:30 a.m.. Nice guys. Put us all in one of the garbage trucks so we wouldn’t have to wait longer for medical help. Cops were mad, said they destroyed evidence but hey… we all needed doctors. Smelly ride, if you know what I mean, but those trucks sure can haul ass!! Oh! Excuse me … I mean move fast!”

 

Both Sam and Dean exchanged triumphant grins. “Very appropriate ride for those bastards, hey?” Sam chirped. “And I think he meant they were hauling asses!”

 

“The doctors and nurses had trouble ‘cuz there were so many of us. Couldn’t really do much more than just stitch us up though. My buddy Dick got cut up the worst. Doc says he’s got to have some kind of tubing implanted. He was screaming all the way here! Messed up real bad!”

 

“Any motive behind these attacks, Mr. Williams?” she prompted.

 

“No. Nobody seems to know. Cops say we may NEVER know what caused them.” As the reporter began to turn back to the camera

a fearful look washed over Fred’s face and reaching out he stopped her by grasping her arm. ”Ma’am, please… One more thing… Just want to say a quick word to a couple of friends, if I may?” he implored, rather pathetically. 

 

“Of course.” The young newswoman reluctantly allowed him to take the microphone from her hand. 

 

Looking directly into the camera, Fred cleared his throat, “Just want to say to my two young billiards buddies…”

 

Sam and Dean turned to gawk at on another in surprise. “Us??!!” they gasped in unison.

 

“I know you boys promised to come and visit us. It’s okay, guys, you don’t have to go through all that trouble. We’ll all be okay… well, except for Dick. No need for the two of you to be further inconvenienced. Not planning any more picnics… ever!” Fred ended with an anxious-looking half smile and handed the ‘mike’ back to Heather. 

 

“So there you have it! The medical team has confirmed that all the male-related injuries have been stabilized at least for the four men who will recuperate and will return to mostly normal lives in the next four to six weeks. The fifth victim was seriously maimed and will require more long-term care after having a permanent tube implanted, to restore more normal body functions.” With a smile, she signed off, 

“This has been Heather Hunnicutt with a Channel 13 NEWS NOW exclusive. Back to you, Charley!”

 

As the news anchor desk reappeared Sam hit the MUTE button. “Biker gang, huh? Male-related injuries, that’s polite as hell,” he snorted. “Think we can believe what Fred said, Dean? Seemed sincere… and scared.”

 

Dean simply shrugged, “Guess we’ll have to for now, Sam.” Closing his eyes for just a moment, he smiled briefly. “Mmm, this pain med is some pretty good shit!”

 

Sam reached over and pulled a blanket over his big brother’s body. Patting him on the shoulder, he said softly, “You should sleep awhile, Dean. I’m going to nap too. When we get up, I’ve got some Epsom salts for a nice hot soak in the garden tub for you. Doctor Lee thought it might help you relax and heal.”

 

As Sam, slid down onto the mattress next to Dean’s bed, he smiled sadly, seeing Dean was already drifting off. Sure hope I can help you through this one, Dean…

 

 

888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

 

 

Four hours later Sam had run the wide, deep tub nearly full of extremely warm water and added the requisite amount of Epsom salts.

Lifting Dean into his arms despite his adamant protests, Sam slid him gently into the water, boxers still in place. 

 

Seeing the smile that lit Dean’s face as he allowed the water to soothe him, his little brother held out hope that things might eventually mend and return to the Winchester version of ‘normal’. They had a solid week to do repeat performances of anything that seemed good or comforting. Feeling a bit less anxious he watched Dean slide happily shoulder-deep into the soak and Sam went off to rustle up their first ‘liquid’ meal.

 

Sam had made two batches of Jell-O with the cheap plastic bowls he’d gotten for just that purpose. Lamenting the fact that whipped topping was not allowed, he frowned as he spooned it onto a couple small Styrofoam bowls and tried to make Dean’s sports drink look more appealing, he hoped, by pouring it into a tall glass. Setting the plates and glasses on the table, Sam scowled at how pathetically small this meal offering truly was. Shit! Dean is gonna be so pissed. Hope I can pull this off for a whole week. I may have to add a straitjacket to his regimen to maintain a week without burgers and pie!

 

Fifteen minutes later Dean shuffled quietly from the bathroom. “Thanks, Sam. Feel a bunch better. May even try to sit for a little while.” Approaching the table, he was tickled to see that his thoughtful little brother had placed a fluffy pillow on a chair for him and had tried hard to set out an appealing but meager meal. He smiled thankfully at Sam and eased carefully onto his cushioned chair. 

 

“We can do another soak any time you want one, Dean, I got a large container of those salts.” Sam watched anxiously as Dean picked up his spoon and tried to pretend he was looking forward to eating.

 

“Well, here goes nothing!” Dean shoveled a jiggly, wiggly spoonful of the pinkish gelatin into his doubting mouth. Swirling the squishy stuff around a little, he swallowed and flashed a smile at his pensive younger brother. “Damn! Not too bad, Sammy! What flavor is this…? No! Wait! Lemme guess…” Closing his eyes as he took a second spoonful, Dean savored the taste for a moment. Grinning, he announced, “Strawberry Daiquiri! Right?”

 

Sam grinned in relief, “Yeah, man. It sure is. Sorry we can’t have any whipped cream. Is it okay?”

 

“Well, might have to get bigger bowls than this… But, it’s only a week I’ll survive it, I guess. Do we have more of this? Kinda’ hungry tonight.”

 

Sam fetched the remainder of the larger bowl from the little refrigerator. “Yep, we do. Another bowl in there for later, too.”

 

Another ten minutes saw Dean back in bed and ready for some TV. After a second dose of his meds a couple hours later, he rather unceremoniously collapsed into his pillows and stayed asleep until nearly 5 a.m. when a very vivid re-enactment dream awakened him. Sam left his mattress, scrambled onto the bed and wrapped his arms gently around his older brother ‘til the panic and fear subsided. More pills and Dean slept again until 8:30 a.m. …

 

And so their days progressed, slowly, with the younger hunter caring for his injured brother, preparing meals, running baths, giving medications and applying the anesthetic gels to keep Dean comfortable and healing. Whenever Dean slept during the days, Sam poured over the Internet seeking a deeper understanding of male rape and male on male sex. Sam felt his own distress, over the acts that had been forced upon him, was being alleviated as well the more he read. His devotion to truly healing Dean, both inside and out, became an all-consuming obsession as the days dragged by.

 

Dr. Lee gladly continued to give phone advice through the ensuing week only too happy she could assist the unfortunate young hunters.

 

Dean’s greatest joy came on Day Three as he was allowed a cup of hot coffee with breakfast. Sam had been deeply amused by his brother’s obvious appreciation as Dean hunched over the big cup luxuriating in the aroma and flavor of the strong brew, such simple deep bliss. 

 

“You know, Dean, we could take a towel and make an inhalation tent if you’d prefer that,” Sam teased. 

 

It made for a bittersweet moment as Sam realized just how few the real joys were in Dean’s life. That cup of coffee or a rare steak or greasy burger or a piece of pie could give him such great pleasure... His unselfish needs were so few, some mullet rock tapes and his beautiful, black Impala and his little brother’s company. Sam wanted to give him so much more. He wished he could totally envelope Dean, just wrap him so tightly in his arms, that Sam would be able to completely absorb Dean’s pain. He wished he possessed a magic bullet that could imbue his wonderful, self-sacrificing brother with a greater sense of self-worth. He wanted to give Dean a love that would restore and renew him, one that would make him believe that Sam loved him as much and as deeply as his big brother loved him. His entire life he had wanted to do nothing more than to be his heroic brother’s always present shadow.

 

Sam thought long and hard on their relationship that entire week as he delved more deeply into the pain and humiliation Dean had been forced to endure. The younger man was surprised by many of the facts he read and even the how-tos of the sex sites and the suggested treatments on the rape sites he perused. All week he’d been absorbing the advice of experts ranging from doctors to psychologists to physical therapists to homosexual authors offering him so much fresh knowledge. Nothing could please him more than to be Dean’s rock this one time, as Dean had been his so many times in life. Sam spent many hours day-dreaming about the childhood incidents he had stored in his memory. He spent even more time thinking about troubling memories he had, of his thoughts and feelings towards his hero as a teen and college-aged little brother. He had frightened himself back then with some not so normal feelings and had tried his own version of the Dean Winchester school of self-denial as a way of dealing with them.

 

Seeing in his mind’s eye their developing bond, that all-consuming brotherly devotion... He was reminded that no one, not even Jess, had given him such a total sense of being loved and cherished. It was only Dean’s presence that made Sam feel complete, a fact he really came to know after reaching Stanford. He remembered declaring his total love for Dean as young as age four, when he had told a chuckling Bobby that someday when they got old like Daddy, Sam would marry Dean. A chuckling Bobby had counseled Sam that someday he might get other ideas. Sam smiled at the distant memory. 

 

And so their long week continued. Each day Dean grew a bit physically stronger as the pain subsided. Sam had happily found the rectal tear healing quite nicely when he did a second scope exam on the fourth day, at Dr. Lee’s behest. She had insisted that they finish both medications however, and told Sam to continue to apply the anesthetic gels, as they were needed. 

 

Sam was glad for the pain pills, realizing they kept Dean’s dreams to a minimum. The prescription had contained enough capsules to cover a four-week period and Sam would be sure that Dean used every one of them.

 

As Dean’s dreams grew more infrequent, Sam’s own uncomfortable sleep apparitions increased. Always the same and always looking like a badly made porn film, Sam was sure he could control himself and these odd visions that haunted his sleep during this past week. After all, Dean NEEDED him, really and truly needed him for the first time in a long time. Sam swept his own ‘dreams’ aside and concentrated on healing the older hunter.

 

Sam had already made up his mind that they would ease back into hunting. After their week at the Happy Honeymooner Hotel, they would cruise for a few days, finding a few smaller, cheaper places to hole up as they regained their ‘sea-legs’. He would ask Bobby and Ellen to keep their eyes open for a ‘simple salt and burn’ telling them Dean had been hurt rather badly on their last gig. They would start small and simple and see where it went from there. In a perfect world Sam and Dean would check their bad dreams and memories at the door as they exited the motel, but in a Winchester world, Sam knew there was a lot more to come. He winced at the thought.

 

 

 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%


	8. Chapter 8

Rack Up The Balls Chapter 8

 

 

For the eighth time in only ten days slumbering Sam was instantly dragged back into reality by the distressed sounds of Dean’s nightmares. Quickly pulling himself together, sliding his long giraffe legs from beneath the covers, Sam glided to Dean’s bedside to wait. He knew the pattern only too well. First, the shuffling struggle under the blankets as if trying to escape, then, the labored breathing followed at last by the panicked cries and groans. In another few seconds, the mumbling, spasmodically jerking older hunter would bolt upright into a seated position with terror-filled green eyes, gasping for air and solace. So it had happened each time, over and over again during the past week and a half. Until then it had been a long silent two months since that life altering night in the park.

 

Sam had watched in unspoken anguish as Dean, in his typical Dean Winchester mode of operation, had decided that the best way to deal with his rape was to simply wall it up inside his head and pretend it never happened, hoping the pain and tormenting memories would somehow evaporate. Once his physical injuries had mended to some degree Dean had simply shut down. Acting as if that brutal pool playing night was just a bad dream, he shut Sam out completely at the mere mention of the visit to the park. Sam so regretted his attitude regarding the abuse. Knowing that a thorough discussion might ease both their nightmares, Sam could only pray that Dean would eventually relax his stance on this don’t ask/don’t tell belief of his.

 

Well, it seemed that bad dreams have a way of returning and this one of Dean’s had returned in spades, bringing along an evil bigger brother. A nightmare from Hell, and that nightmare, was slowly killing Dean. 

 

His lack of sleep had lead to inattentive behavior on a ‘salt and burn’ two days ago, and had turned something that should have been simple into a horrible series of physical attacks by the spirit that had nearly killed Dean. If Sam hadn’t gotten to the bones the moment he had the creature would have launched Dean from a third floor window onto the concrete below.

 

Bad enough that he walked around with deep dark circles beneath his tired bottle green eyes or even that he awoke in a breathless terror, but the nightmares had lately introduced another little prop to the scenario. It made Dean’s earlier dreams pale by comparison. Each recent nightmare had left Dean not only panicked and hyperventilating but with a severely painful erection that would take more than an hour to recede. It clawed at Sam’s heart to see his stoic big brother’s ever-increasing embarrassment over this ’growing problem’.

 

Tonight though, Sam was convinced it would be different, that he could change the course of things. Tonight, he and Dean would come to terms with not only this devastating demon that stalked his brother so mercilessly but also a lesser demon as well. This other demon had driven Sam mad for years, had made him nearly lose his family. Tonight though he would talk and Dean would listen. Hoping for an even stronger bonding, but deep down Sam feared that Dean might well stomp off into the night, never to return, after Sam said his piece.

 

Now as Dean screamed his way into wakefulness, Sam slid his tall body into the space between his brother and the headboard. Letting Dean’s broad back lay against his own bare chest Sam wrapped his arms protectively around the older hunter, holding him close like a frightened child. Using the pads of his fingers to rub soothing circles on Dean’s naked chest, all the while murmuring quiet words of comfort, “Shh…Shhh, Dean. It’s okay. It’s all right. Shhh…” Another shaking sob escaped Dean’s lips. “Shh…shh. It’s okay. It’s just you and me…”

 

Dean’s terror began to subside, finally he was sucking in long gasps of air, trying to calm down. Sam was nuzzling his face softly against Dean’s hair and neck, an almost imperceptible motion as his long fingers kept tracing those monotonous comforting circles, “How many times, Dean? How many hundreds of times did your strong arms and soft words comfort me when I had bad dreams? How many thousands of circles did your gentle hands trace on my skin to ease me back from night terrors? How many times did you take away the pain?” Sam’s soft voice paused, letting the weight of his quiet words seep slowly into Dean’s confused mind.

 

Dean’s body relaxed more into his arms, as Sam’s voice continued soft and coaxing, “That’s it, big brother. Let me lift this dark cloud for you. Let me find a way out. Shh… Shh… Relax. Let me help you. Please… You must know I’ve always loved you more than anyone or anything in my life. Just let me help you. I want to take away your pain, Dean. Please?” 

 

The exhausted, sleepless Dean held so still inside the circle of Sam’s protective arms that his little brother wondered if sleep had somehow reclaimed him.

 

Sam bravely placed a light kiss on the older man’s tense muscular shoulder. Nothing happened! No blow up! “Dean, it’s okay really. It’s going to be better. I’ll help you. We will always have each other… always.”

 

Instantly Dean became animated, “No! Sam… You don’t understand. You can’t…” Dean’s voice almost a shaky whisper, full of angst.

 

“Tell me, Dean. Talk to me! Make me understand. You’re my brother. I love you. I want to help… Be here for you… always.”

 

Dean twisted his head back to glimpse Sam’s gentle, worried face for just a reassuring moment. It stunned Sam to see the mask of childlike anxiety that covered Dean’s usually handsome face.

 

Averting his eyes once more Dean whispered fearfully, “No, Sam! You wouldn’t be here! You couldn’t… If you knew the real truth about me you’d walk right out that door and never come back! Trust me.”

 

Sam felt a single hot tear splash onto his arm and roll a tickling course down to his elbow. Dean moved to tears! How bad can this dark secret be? Sam felt a knot twisting tightly inside his chest.

 

The communication door was open now, but Sam wasn’t so sure he had the strength and courage to cross its foreboding threshold. Sucking in a shallow breath and closing his eyes for a few seconds he prayed against Dean’s rejection. What would he do if he bared his soul to his beautiful brother and Dean angrily tossed HIM aside and left? Where would I go? How could I survive without Dean being here to complete me?

 

“Dean… Please…? You have to talk to me. I would NEVER leave you. Ever! I know I can help you, just give me the chance. I’ll stay right here. I promise!” As Sam’s graceful fingers moved gently across his brother’s muscular stomach, Dean swallowed so hard it rippled even through his solar plexus. Another scalding tear splattered onto Sam’s forearm.

 

Dean’s strong hands suddenly knotted around Sam’s wrists forcing them to still. His voice quavered, “Sam, I…” His words halted as he tried to find the right things to say. Words that would not drive Sam away…forever... He could say this only if he could not see the pain in Sam’s eyes.

 

“Sam… I’m… I’m not who you think I am. I’m not… I’m not the man you think I am!” His voice now a hoarse whisper, “I’m not the man… I thought I was either!” A tremor of anguish coursed through his body.

 

In a highly agitated state, Dean flung Sam’s arms wide open and attempted to push off from the bed.

 

Not a word was spoken as Sam quickly intercepted his brother. Wrapping his long arms tightly around Dean’s body, pinning his arms to his sides, he jerked Dean back into his lap.

 

“No! You can’t just say something like that and just shut down this way! Can’t shut me out like that, Dean! I won’t let you! Not this time…! Maybe there are secrets I have too, that could drive you away… We HAVE to talk! I will listen to you and then you will listen to all that I want to say. Nobody is leaving anybody!”

 

Struggle as he might, in his worn out condition Dean could not pull free of Sam’s determined almost painful grip. At last, in utter exasperation, Dean sighed, “Fine!” When Sam made no attempt to release his control, Dean muttered, “Will you let me breathe at least?”

 

Sam softly voiced a simple request, “Just tell me what you meant.” He released his crushing grip around his brother’s chest to some degree.

 

After a long silence, Dean began, “I’m not sure how to explain it, Sam. I haven’t been able to figure it out myself exactly.” Closing his eyes as if wanting to hide from his own words, Dean massaged his jaw nervously, “Sam, it’s just this…”

 

Dean sighed dejectedly and thrusting his hips slightly forward, gestured with his hand toward the massive erection he still sported. “Sam, it never stops! What is wrong with me? The first dreams after ’it’ happened… I was terrified by what had happened to us. Then the dreams made me remember having a damned hard-on almost the entire time Dick was doing those things to me. A fucking hard-on, Sam! Like I enjoyed what he was doing! And now, Sam… Now… Shit! I have a nightmare and wake up like this for God’s sake!”

 

Sam bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from crying. Dean! My big, strong brother! Terrified? How can he think that meant he enjoyed being raped and horribly brutalized? Through the brutal actions of some filthy animal he was reduced to doubting everything about himself. Dean had always been the one man in Sam’s entire life with a clear sense of purpose and total knowledge of who and what he truly was. Tears welled up along the fringe of Sam’s dark lashes.

 

“Sam, I’m a damned pervert pretending to be something… somebody… I’m not! I’m no hunter anymore. I can’t be. I don’t even deserve to be called a man!” This self-deprecating mode had to be stifled before Dean self-destructed but Sam wasn’t sure he had the tools or the words to stop it.

 

He HAD to share his own dark side somehow without incurring the wrath Dean was now directing inwardly. Sam watched helplessly as Dean pushed himself to his feet head hung nearly to his chest, and stumbled across the floor towards the motel dresser. With a pained roar he began punching his fists against the solid wood, finally allowing his salty tears to freely spill, as the blood from his shattered skin trickled down the oak panels. 

 

Sam followed him silently, the metallic taste of fear filling his mouth, making it hard to swallow. He was so afraid to speak out, to tell Dean about the hidden thoughts in his life. Would Dean turn those bloodied fists on him? Would he feel such disgust and betrayal over Sam’s revelation that he would storm away into the outside world never wanting to lay eyes on his little brother ever again?

 

“Dean! Dean, can we please sit down for a minute? I really need to tell you something important. Something I should have told you a long time ago but just couldn’t find the right words… I’m still not sure that I’ve found them even tonight, but you need to hear this. Please? Please, Dean…?” He tugged gently on Dean’s arm. “Just sit with me for a moment. Let me get this off my chest…”

 

Dean allowed Sam to drape an arm around his shoulders and guide him back to the bed, gently pulling him down to sit beside him. Sam closed his sad eyes, thinking, composing himself and his words.

 

With a resigned sigh he caught Dean’s head in his slender hands compelling him to make eye contact. “Dean, I think you’ve always known how proud I’ve been to have you for as my big brother. Nobody has a better, stronger, more protective, more nurturing or more loving brother than mine. Ever since I’ve been able to remember you were the only person who was there for me for everything, no matter what.” Sam paused hoping to see some impact reflected on Dean’s tear-streaked face. If anything, he looked even sadder and more distraught.

 

Sam tried to take hold of one of Dean’s bleeding clenched fists but Dean tugged it away angrily. “Dean, please… I need to know that you really are listening to me.”

 

Dean murmured, “I hear you, Sammy.”

 

“I need you to know that I will always love you no matter what happens here tonight. I also need for you to really understand that you are the only person I have ever truly loved… always. I loved Dad but not the same as you. I loved Jess but even that wasn’t the same. Not even close...”

 

Dean shifted uncomfortably as Sam leaned in closer, “Let me tell you something I told Bobby when I was in kindergarten I guess… I told him that when I grew up I was going to marry you. I remember Bobby laughed but I didn’t understand why at the time. All I know now is that I still love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. Do you understand that, Dean? Do you know what it did to me in that park, being forced to watch that filthy animal tear at you like you were a piece of meat? How horrible it felt not to be able to save you?” Sam’s voice trembled as he spoke.

 

Dean’s body became racked with the most heart-wrenching sobs as he tried to push away from Sam. “Oh, God, Sammy! Oh, God!” Tears again streamed down Dean’s face, so contorted with anguish that Sam found himself tearing up. “Sammy, I’m just a ‘filthy animal’ myself! You don’t understand…” Staggering unsteadily to his feet his voice a raspy whisper, Dean confessed, “Sam, I’m sick! That night… That night I saw what that pig was forcing you to do and I was so… so pissed. I kept thinking ‘No! You can’t touch him! Sam’s mine!’” Dean tossed a panicky confused look over his shoulder, just a quick visual connection before muttering in a mixture of disbelief and disgust, “Sammy… I… I felt jealous… Oh, my God! Jealous! How disgusting!”

 

Sam’s eyes flew wide open in surprise as he quickly rose to try to stop Dean right there.

 

Shuddering gasps shook the older hunter’s solid muscular frame. “Awww, God! Sammy! Where the hell did that come from? You’re my little brother, for God’s sake! What the fuck is wrong with me?! How can I feel like that?”

 

“Dean, please! You have to listen to me!” Sam desperately wanted to be heard. Maybe… just maybe he and his big brother were on the same page for once.

 

“No! Sam! You listen to me! Now I have these sickening thoughts when I’m around you. I have disgusting, horrible dreams. Oh, dammit, Sammy… I’m sorry! So sorry…” he fell to his knees, face buried in his hands.

 

Dropping down on his knees beside his brother, Sam cupped a hand beneath his distraught brother’s chin forcing Dean to look him full in the face.

 

Now it was the younger man’s turn to stammer and feel ill at ease as the words poured out. “Dean, you have to listen to me. I’ve wanted… I’ve …erm… I wanted to be with you since we were teens… I uh… mean… really with you, Dean, but you were always so macho, so crazy about girls… and them about you. I couldn’t tell you. You wouldn’t understand. Dad wouldn’t understand. I was some kind of pervert, so I had to leave. I went to Stanford and forced myself to be ‘normal’. Jess was my biggest attempt at normalcy. I thought that if I could just stay away from you, try to forget how I felt… everything would be okay.”

 

Dean had finally stopped his self-deprecating sidebars and was gazing at his brother in total confusion. “Sam, I don’t understand…”

 

“Yeah, well, me neither, Dean. All I know is you came back into my life and those feelings started again. I didn’t know what I was going to tell Jess. We’d been talking about marriage and a normal life. I had pretty much convinced myself that I could be happy like that, and then the bubble burst when you showed up and we went looking for Dad! It was just you and me and ‘those feelings’ again. Then Jess died and I felt so damned guilty. I knew before she died that I couldn’t go through with it, Dean. God! I was gonna dump her, I knew it!”

 

“But that night in the park… If I could have gotten loose I would have killed every one of those fucking bastards. They touched you! Hurt you! Had you! …Dean, you’re mine! You’ve always been mine!”

 

Reaching out, Sam gripped Dean’s shoulders. Carefully he leaned down and planted an almost chaste kiss on his brother’s trembling lips. Only the look of utter bewilderment in Dean’s startled green eyes made him stop.

 

Dean fought his way to his feet, shoving Sam angrily away. Confusion and anguish clouded his handsome features. “Sam! No! We can’t! I can’t… Oh,God!! Oh, dammit!” He pivoted away from his little brother’s puppy dog eyes.

 

Sam climbed up to his full height, stepping up against the older hunter’s warm naked back, skin on skin. Lightly he wrapped his arms around his brother’s heaving torso. “Dean… we can and I think we should… Haven’t we always been the only ones always there for each other? Haven’t we always been the only ones who understand one another?” Sam touched his warm moist lips to Dean’s jaw just in front of his ear. “Haven’t you always loved me?” he whispered. His lips barely brushed along Dean’s broad shoulder. With the fingers of his left hand the young hunter tiptoed tiny circles around his brother’s closest nipple, hearing the man’s sharp intake of breath as he used his thumbnail to stroke softly across the stiffening pink bud. The softest moan escaped Dean’s pouty lips, followed by a complete body shiver and Sam felt the tense body shift ever so slightly closer. As more warm tears trickled onto Sam’s forearms he slowly turned his older brother to face him. He kissed Dean full on the lips, tasting the salt of his tears as they traveled to the corners of his mouth. Ever so delicately Sam used the tip of his warm tongue to trace the tears from Dean’s lips to his eyes, lightly kissing each of his older brother’s closed eyelids. A peaceful sigh escaped those warm full lips as Sam used a feathery touch to trail his long, graceful fingers down his brother’s lightly stubbled face, slowly down his pulsing neck artery to his muscular chest.

 

Applying a faint pressure with his abs against Dean’s, he almost imperceptibly guided Dean back to the bed. As the older man’s calves brushed the edge of the mattress, Sam felt his brother’s body stiffen, “Sam, no! No, we…” Sam smothered Dean’s protest in coaxing kisses.

 

Sam’s mouth was gentle, soft, persuasive… His kisses as warm and easy as a sunny, spring breeze... They caressed Dean’s dry lips, his cheeks, his jaw… Finally Sam licked ever so lightly over his brother’s full lips and as they parted to release a small gasp, Sam slid his tongue between them. Dean gave no response, but no argument either. Sam tucked an arm around his brother’s back and with very little effort lowered Dean onto the bed without their lips separating.

 

Sam let his tongue wander a moment or two before releasing Dean’s lips. Burying his face in the crook of Dean’s throat and collarbone, he nipped and nuzzled until he had the older hunter moaning. Lying beside Dean, Sam used first his lips and then his hot, moist tongue to tease his brother’s nipples until they were pencil eraser hard. ”Oh, Sammy! Oh, no…! Ahhh… Nooo… ” Dean moaned, arching his back as Sam’s mouth moved away, teasingly, only to return and disappear again.

 

Sammy kissed his open mouth gently before sliding his tongue inside torturously slow. Now the older hunter’s tongue tangled softly against Sam’s. Slowly easing his warm, soft hands down his older brother’s quivering ribcage, as Dean groaned aloud, the dark-haired hunter rested them on Dean’s hipbones. He waited for Dean’s tongue to respond strongly to his before gently easing Dean’s black boxers lower until Sam was caressing his curly blond pubic hair. Dean’s strong hands flew to try and move his little brother’s hands away but Sam’s response was to ease his lips and tongue free for a moment to direct his now smoldering gaze at the passion-glazed green eyes.

 

“Dean, this is going to happen for us tonight. I want you to be okay with this. I’ve done so much reading and even watched a couple of guy porn flicks.” As he talked his right hand toyed with Dean’s nipples, eliciting small groans and shudders from the other hunter. “It won’t be like the park. We would never hurt each other like that. Now… please… can’t you just relax? Let me do this for you, for us… Let’s just try it this once,” he whispered gently, “Please…?”

 

Seeing Sam’s serious pleading eyes and hearing his almost logical words, Dean sighed aloud and with a small nod laid his head back down, trying to relax. He would let Sam guide him. 

 

Once more Sam kissed him softly, as a lover, any lover might. The older brother responded in kind, trembling as he felt Sam’s long spidery fingers explore his genital area. As those gentle fingers slipped around the shaft of his still painfully engorged shaft stroking him, Dean struggled to breathe, loosing a shuddering groan. The excitement Sam’s warm hands produced was almost too much to bear. Sam’s sweet moist lips began to travel southward as Dean quivered, gasping for air.

 

Like a silk scarf barely touching Dean’s hot, aching skin, Sam’s lips ghosted a long trail of kisses from his jawbone to his hipbone. The older man’s traitorous body trembled with sexual excitement and nervous anticipation.

 

Little brother’s sensuous excursion culminated in an audible moan followed by a gasping, “Oh, my God, Sammy! Ahhh! Sam…!!” as Sam took the throbbing head of Dean’s huge cock between his wet lips. Using only the tip of his tongue he licked at the now oozing eye of his brother’s throbbing swollen member. Dean’s head pivoted insanely on his shoulders moaning in response to Sam’s oral ministrations, as his back arced upward. "No... Sammy! Please...No! You don't have to do that!" he whispered hoarsely.

 

Unlike his forced performance in the park, Sam slowly, sensuously took every last bit of Dean into his mouth and throat. Dean groaned and twisted softly at the pleasurable pain of it, Sam’s shaggy hair brushing softly against him, again and again as he moved his lips and mouth up and down the long, hot, sensitive shaft. Having been forced to endure the horrendous pressure of the engorgement for nearly an hour Dean felt like he would die, but with Sam’s sweet, rhythmic sucking and the nimble fingers that plucked so torturously at his ultra-sensitive nipples, Dean moaned as the powerful waves continued to rock his entire body. His muscles twitched and tightened as he built to a screaming, moaning climax. His body arced into it as if an electric current ran through him. Gasping the blond hunter tried to control his body’s insane sexual response, but it came like a roaring avalanche. Never in his life had he come so close to losing consciousness during sex! Blinding white light filled his mind, sucking his breath from him, his thinking ceased, only the physical Dean existed. As he exploded inside Sam’s delicious wet mouth, he fell back onto the bed too weak to do anything more than breathe.

 

Sam continued to suck gently on Dean’s cock swallowing every salty drop of cum. Dean’s body had collapsed, his passionate moans finally stilled, to a few gasping breaths. Sammy gently released Dean’s now spent dick, lifting his dark tousled head he studied Dean’s handsome face. For the first time in a long while, Dean looked so peaceful, eyes softly closed. Sam smiled happily to himself.

 

“Sammy?” Dean’s voice a breathy whisper.

 

‘”Yes?” Sam raised himself up on one elbow.

 

“This is really wrong, isn’t it?” he queried, shame rising in his voice.

 

“Did it feel wrong, Dean? Were we both agreeable with it?” Sam gently prompted.

 

“Naw… it felt fucking fantastic, really… Thank you, Sammy.”

 

“Don’t we always take care of each other?” Sam grinned at his hero. Creeping upward to the pillow beside Dean, he leaned over to kiss him with a warm invitation. “Rest for a bit and then I’ll teach you how to take care of me… and you at the same time. We have lots of lubricant and plenty of time to learn.” He snuggled warmly against Dean, sighing contentedly, enjoying every point of body contact, wanting to wrap himself around his precious brother like a second skin.

 

Dean caught Sam’s young face in his hands and drew him into a soft, appreciative kiss. “Teach me, little brother. I’ll count on that.”

 

 

TBC

 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%


	9. Chapter 9

  
Author's notes: And now how will things look by the light of day???  


* * *

RACK UP THE BALLS!! Chapter 9 (pt. 1) An Apt Pupil

 

 

They slept in one another’s sheltering arms for the rest of the night, total exhaustion both physical and emotional claiming the young brothers. For once they experienced dreamless, visionless sleep content in the total possession of one another, hidden from the outside world.

 

Long eyelashes fluttered gently in the semi darkness of early morning, trying to acclimate, to make sense of the earlier emotionally charged night and the highly physical ending. Green eyes pivoted slowly downward settling on the gentle face nestled so softly against his muscular chest. That angelic, peaceful face framed in a thick fringe of dark brown, curly hair looking as it always had. The incestuous actions had done nothing to mark it as anything other than handsome, to the point of being sensitively beautiful. 

 

Dean smiled such a warm, serene smile. He had always believed it was impossible to love his little brother any more than he did, but today he knew he’d been mistaken. His aching heart felt so full of Sammy that he was sure it would burst and he would explode along with it and cease to exist. He wanted to be free to touch that sweet face, to kiss those lips, those eyes, to run his fingers anywhere and everywhere on this long well-muscled body and just absorb every bit of him. He felt the desire to commit every square inch to memory so his little brother would be with him every minute of every day.

 

Was he comfortable in this new role? Not yet. Would he ever feel that what they were doing was right? Possibly. Could he ever do for Sammy the things Sam had done for him? He would certainly try. He owed Sammy that…and himself.

 

His mildly calloused fingers trailed feather light up the sculpted chest that lay against his own. Watching the exposed single nipple responding to the subtle almost non-existent touch, Dean grinned. Even in sleep Sam was a true hunter, aware of everything around him. Inclining his head just a fraction of an inch, the older hunter touched his lips ever so lightly to the top of the head that grazed his dimpled chin.

 

Sam had certainly been right about one thing with the brothers’ new relationship. It did feel like a natural progression in their brotherly caring and closeness.

 

Lying with his sibling so sweetly gathered against him, Dean had never felt more at peace or more comfortable. Last night, Sam had given the gift of himself so selflessly, so easily. He had comforted Dean in a way that the older hunter still could not explain or understand. All he really knew was that it had blessed him with a sense of such total release that no tension remained in his body. He sighed softly, contentedly.

 

Sam suddenly shifted away, rolling onto his left side leaving Dean’s warm embrace. Dean frowned in disappointment at the loss of contact. Feeling abandoned, deciding he needed more, he followed Sam’s path to spoon lightly against Sam’s warm back and legs. As he moved against the smooth muscular flesh, his body began to respond to that closeness. He felt the pull in his loins as his velvet shaft stiffened against Sam’s right flank. Reaching his right hand in search of ‘little Sammy’ he grinned at the realization that Sam, too, was packing his own morning hardness. Full pink lips brushed gently against his little brother’s broad shoulder, leaving a trail of soft dry kisses from the top of Sam’s arm to the crook of his long neck, then Dean’s warm, moist tongue painted over that same delicious trail.

 

A soft gasp came as Sam’s awakening response, followed by a very

contented, “Mmmmm…” 

 

Sam’s body shifted ever so slightly, purposely exposing his throat, giving Dean a larger canvas to work on. With a soft appreciative moan, Dean arced his neck to reach higher and softly lick and nip at his brother’s throat and ear. Beneath his tongue and now questing fingertips he felt the Goosebumps rise on his little brother’s responsive flesh. Sam loosed a tiny “ahhhh” as the older hunter’s fingertips ghosted a path to his quickly distending nipples. Dean grinned in appreciation, knowing his clumsy ministrations were not as bad as he had feared. He wanted to ask Sam what would please him but did not want to destroy the moment. There would be plenty of time later for a tutorial if Sam felt he needed one. Consciously shutting down and just running on instinct was now his chosen path. With a growl Dean launched himself into full pleasure mode. 

 

Fisting a handful of Sam’s unruly brown locks, he drew back until Sam’s blue-green eyes met his. The quirky sweet smile tugging at the corners of his little brother’s mouth and the welcoming look in those sleepy, gentle eyes assured him that last night had not been a one time thing. He covered those lips with his own soft full ones in an almost chaste kiss, but as his fingers again touched those sensitive pink buds, Sam gasped and his lips separated. Taking advantage of the slight opening, Dean softly slid the tip of his tongue into Sam’s mouth. Questing gently at first and when Sam offered no resistance, his tongue grew far more demanding, thrusting deeply inside that warm wet burrow. Insistently he probed against Sam’s teeth, tongue, and inner cheeks. Soon with their tongues intertwined, the hunters were moaning softly into each other’s mouths as their hands roamed inquisitively over taut muscled planes.

 

Maneuvering Sam’s taller body flat onto his back, Dean reluctantly abandoned the wet warmth of his mouth to search for other pleasures, other treasures hidden in his brother’s flesh. His lips and then teasing pink tongue moved ever so leisurely up and down the length of Sammy’s throat before sliding lower to caress first his collarbone and then his sensitive pink nipples. As the younger hunter moaned and gasped with each new or deepening sensation, Dean’s searching hands roamed lower and lower. Tracing the valleys of Sam’s arched abs with tenderly probing fingertips, Dean marveled at the taut musculature he was always too embarrassed to gawk at even when Sam was partly garbed. 

 

As his mouth continued to torment Sam with passionate kisses, licks and nipping bites, his warm hands slid between his little brother’s long lean thighs. Cradling Sam’s sack in his right hand he gently rolled the balls about, enjoying the silky, soft motion of it. With his left hand he lightly wrapped his fingers around Sam’s hot shaft, savoring the plump, firmness of it and its wonderful flexibility as he manipulated it in a circular motion just to get familiar with its touch. Sam loosed a girly moan, arcing his back high off the mattress into Dean’s stroking, fondling hands. Quickly rising to his side Dean slid upward enveloping Sam’s mouth in a delicious open-mouthed kiss. Beginning to stroke his hand up and down Sam’s hardened cock, Dean was rewarded with the sensuous moan Sam breathed deep into his mouth. Sliding his thumb tantalizing over the oozing eye of his little brother’s cock, Dean used the warm sticky cream to lessen the friction of his hand as he continued to fist Sam. 

 

When Sam was reduced to a writhing, squirming moaning mass beneath him, with the quick easy grace of a gymnast Dean straddled Sam’s calves and lowered his beautiful pouty lips onto that twitching, swollen shaft. Moaning almost a loudly as Sam he worked at swallowing the entire length of his sibling’s engorged cock. Slowly with deep deliberate motions he moved his mouth up and down Sam’s hot joystick, pausing again and again to tantalizingly slide his tongue up the underside stroking the large raised vein and then rimming the crowned edge of the head before teasing the oozing slit. Breaking contact only for a few moments when he lifted his eyes to look upon the beautiful painfully passionate expression on Sammy’s face. Reveling in the near blackness of the usually blue-green eyes, pupils blown wide in lust and desire, Dean smiled knowing that desire was only for him, only for his hands and body, and lustily resumed pleasuring his younger brother. 

 

As the precum leaked more plentifully and Sam’s breathing became strained panting, “Guhhh… Oh, Dean... Ohhhh…” He moaned as his hips thrust upwards into the depths of Dean’s sweet mouth. “Ahhh, stop… I’m gonna… Gonna come!”

 

Sam’s large hands clutched at the sides of Dean’s tensed throat, he’d been trying so hard not to touch him fearing he might make Dean feel coerced in some way. But he felt the time was right to make his plea, “Dean, please… Oh, God! Dean… I want to feel you inside of me. Please… I need more…” Gasping now, frantic for a deeper union, “I need you… Fuck me, please…”

 

Pausing mid-stroke, lifting his head, Dean’s lust-glazed eyes moved to Sam’s, but a look of mild fear accompanied his hesitant words, “Sammy…what?! No… I don’t want to hurt you…. No… I can’t.” He shook his head slightly, “No… Sam, it hurts… you don’t know.”

 

With a gentle smile, Sam placed his fingers softly over Dean’s saliva and cum slicked lips, “Shhhh, Dean… I trust you. You would never hurt me. In the park… they wanted to cause pain. They wanted to hurt you… hurt us. It was a vicious attack.” He sat up slightly, stroking a hand gently against Dean’s soft cheek “Shhh, I have nothing to fear from you. Last night it didn’t hurt me to help you find relief, I enjoyed sucking your cock almost as much as you enjoyed me doing it. It wasn’t anything like being with those bastards. WE are nothing like them. Sex with you, Dean, would be an act of love, of mutual pleasure, not pain.”

 

Although Dean looked a bit less terrified, Sam knew the struggle was far from ended. Reaching into the nightstand, he took a brightly decorated tube from the drawer. Holding it out to Dean with an encouraging little smile, he gently suggested, “I bought us a few supplies. This one I bought just for you… Cherry Fizz lubricant! Just give it a try… Please…”

 

The corners of his big brother’s pouty lips quirked up in an unsure smile, as Dean whispered, “I’ll try, Sam. I promise.” With a little nod, he accepted the cherry-flavored lube and unscrewing the cap sniffed at the red tinged gel that seeped out, then briefly touched the tip of his tongue to it. “Okey-dokey, definitely cherry at least.” He set it quickly aside.

 

“Just let instinct guide you, Dean. We can do this. I trust you.” Cupping Dean’s chin gently in one hand Sam led him to move his body closer until he was nearly lying atop Sam. Beginning with light butterfly kisses all along Dean’s jaw and throat, Sam soon had them back where they had left off. Dean was shuddering with sexual excitement, hands everywhere, lips and tongue following. 

 

As the older hunter’s mouth once more teased at the head of his little brother’s velvet shaft, Sam spread his legs wider inviting Dean’s warm, adventurous touch. When Sam’s hips began to pump and thrust Sam’s cock greedily into his hungry mouth, Dean slid his hands under Sam’s ass to support him and draw him closer. As he did so two fingertips ever so lightly grazed the puckered bud in the crack of Sam’s ass. With a moan, Sam squirmed trying to get more contact, arcing his body towards his brother’s fingers. 

 

Sam bent his knees planting his feet to support himself and free up one of Dean’s hands, Sliding his arm beneath him he caught at one of his brother’s wrists, drawing the hand closer to the crack of his ass. Nudging the hand several times brought Dean’s fingertips to brush softly against his hungry virgin opening. With each touch Sam felt a small shock wave course through his body. Whimpering as he felt the warmth of Dean’s hesitant fingers, Sam rolled his hips to make contact again and again. 

 

“Oh, yesss, Dean. That’s it… Gel… use the gel…” Sam panted, planting his feet harder to hold his ass suspended where Dean had been holding it. Seizing the initiative Sam‘s hand scrambled across the bedcovers, searching until triumphantly his fingers closed over the tube of Cherry Fizz. Stealing a glance at his older brother’s handsome face, Sam could see the uncertainty he felt. Squeezing a glob of gel out to let it plop onto his fingers he slipped them between his legs to smear the lubricant on and around Dean’s trembling fingers.

 

“I’m ready, Dean… You can… do this… I know…Pppp…leez..,” Sam shuddered as more and more shimmers of energy coursed through him. “God, Dean…. I want ...you…Ahhh …I nnneed you… inside mmmmme! Puh….leez… Oh, fffuck…Pleeezzzz,” his breath came in small gasps now.

 

Dean was stunned at his little brother’s bodily reactions as his trembling fingers touched him there. He wanted to pull his hand away but each time he tried Sam’s ass seemed to follow him, grinding the small muscular bud against his hand. The older hunter wanted nothing more than to make Sam the happiest little brother in the whole world.

But this… this thing he asked Dean to do for him was a big mistake. Sam didn’t know, couldn’t know the horrid screaming pain involved. 

 

Peering up at Sam’s contorted face and lust blown eyes, Dean feared for the worst. How could he do this to Sam? How could he hurt Sam the way that bastard Dick had hurt him? Sam wanted this, was demanding this? But Sam also trusted him not to hurt him.

 

Come on, Deanie-boy! Key words here are ‘Sammy wants’! What is wrong with you? Since when do you deny Sam anything?!

 

As badly as the touches made Sam’s body shudder, those same touches made the older hunter tremble, remembering that night, that pain! 

 

Willing his hand to do Sam’s bidding, the handsome hunter circled the tightly puckered ring of muscles with the pad of his gelled index finger. Whimpering now, Sam twisted against him trying to impale himself on it. I can do this…I promised Sam… slowly Dean pushed the tip of his finger through the first ring of muscles. Sam’s whimpers became a moan and his body tensed. As his older brother’s fingertip breached the second ring, Sam loosed a grunt and slight groan as his virgin tightness felt the invasive pressure. Dean saw Sam’s face twist in discomfort at that very moment and it was all he needed to see.

 

With a loud sob, pulling his hand free of Sam, Dean clawed his way off the bed like a scalded cat. Before Sam could muster a single intelligible word, he had scrambled into his jeans, grabbed his shirt jacket and boots and headed for the door, mumbling “No, Sam….I can’t …Can’t hurt you.”

 

In an instant Sam Winchester’s superhero brother had activated his jetpack and flown out of their room, slamming the door shut in his wake, leaving behind a frustrated, sobbing Sam sitting abandoned on the edge of his bed.

 

“Shit! Shit! Fucking shit! SHIT!!” Sam screamed as the roar of the Impala’s big motor thundered through the wall. Instantly that was followed by the squeal of the massive Detroit monster’s tires as it made a hasty escape from the motel parking lot.

 

Forlornly Sam’s hot tears coursed down his cheeks to run in tiny rivers down his muscled bare chest. What should he do now? Follow Dean? Where would he go? God knows. What would he do if he found him? Drag him back to their room and force himself on his hero? 

 

Yeah, right! Sure, like that’d work! Really traumatize him! Brilliant!

 

Sam sat quietly thinking as the sobbing finally released its grip on his breathing and thoughts. Dean just needed more time. He should have known that. Dean Winchester was not a man to make snap decisions. Dean could only do that in a live or die, fight or perish situation. Sam of course knew that in those situations, no one thought faster or better than Dean. No, Dean had always, in Sam’s opinion, been like a wild stallion just fine until someone tried to bridle him and lead him. John had been able to make Dean do things, dance to his directives, but Sam was NOT John and never wanted to be. No, he loved Dean because of that fierce determination he had to live free. He had no wish to change Dean, turn him into his puppet. Sam decided he could wait.

 

Dean was a prize worth having, worth waiting for, he could wait as long as was needed really. For his entire life Sam had felt like a spoiled brat, thanks to his quiet, wisecracking, self-sacrificing older brother. Dean had deprived himself of food, clothes, friends, a better education, even a normal life to keep his Sammy safe, to try to bestow on Sam as much normalcy as Dean could muster. Sam knew he had greedily devoured anything Dean had placed in his path without once looking to see if Dean had kept any of the offered items for himself. As Sam had finally matured and he had all the material things he ‘needed’, he had come to realize that something was missing. He was incomplete. A deep gaping hole existed at the very center of his being, a hole that begged to be filled. Slowly over the past year he had come to realize that his beautiful older brother was the only plaster that gaping hole needed as filling. That night back in the park, surrounded by those vicious beasts, Sam had known once and for all that he HAD to have Dean. Without Dean I have no normalcy. I have nothing. I am nothing. 

 

He would be so patient, it would hurt. He would find Dean tonight, in a crazy small town bar with few patrons and a loud jukebox. Dean would slide in looking for a game of pool or darts, a tad of solace and a bit of liquid courage before heading for home. Sam knew he needed to do the first facedown on neutral ground and the bar would be it. He would have to let his wonderful older brother know that his door and arms would be open whenever Dean chose to be with him, in Dean’s own time and on his own terms. He had watched his big brother’s eyes as they had headed into town and for the motel, and like Dean had taken note of the five taverns they passed. Thank God for driving a classic car that stands out like a shining beacon in any parking lot. Dean might as well be driving a lighthouse… Sam chuckled to himself.

 

He would spend his afternoon on his laptop, seeking advice on some of the friendlier sites dealing with male-on-male sex and male rape victims. Someone, somewhere would have lived through this same crisis of trust and fear of inflicting pain. Sam would be as patient as his brother needed him to be. As loving and unselfishly caring as Dean had always been when he was little Sam’s protector, when he had been the glue that held their tiny family together. Sam wanted to be as strong for Dean as Dean had always been when he had defended Sam against the world, against menacing clowns, even against John. 

 

Flipping the laptop open, Sam slid into his tee and boxers and set about making some lousy instant coffee in the little motel microwave.

Flipping on the nasty old clock radio on the kitchenette counter, the room was filled appropriately with the bluesy strains of AC/DC’s Let Me Put My Love Into You.

 

With a chuckle he grabbed the liquid poison he had nuked and slid into his chair, determined to find some answers.

 

 

TBC……..

 

 

snsnsnsnsnsnsns


	10. Chapter 10

  
Author's notes: Dean may rue the day he ever started drinking so much cofee, puts him in some precarious predicaments.  


* * *

RACK UP THE BALLS Chapter 10

 

 

 

Cruising onto the vacant grassy field he’d found overlooking the quiet lake at the edge of town, Dean dejectedly tore the plastic cover from his large carryout coffee. All he wanted was to plant himself for a while, no thoughts, no emotions… just a total zoning out of the world in general. That lasted for about five minutes.

 

Yeah, right, sure like that was gonna happen anytime soon!

 

As he sipped his strong black java, his mind spun instantly to Sammy. Like hunting, like breathing, thinking of Sammy came second nature to the older brother. If Dean was conscious at all, some part of his brain was always in Sammyland. 

 

He had charged out of the motel lot that morning in full coward mode. His sock-less feet were now sticking uncomfortably inside his boots, and he seldom went anywhere Commando style. His panic attack had just not planned ahead for sox and underwear. He had charged out of their room nearly naked, not even pausing to finish dressing til he stopped for gas a few miles away. 

 

Running with my tail tucked between my legs… like a sniveling cur!

 

He felt like a total ass, deserting Sam in his time of need like that. Leaving him crying probably, with no breakfast and no transportation. Left him teetering on the edge of an orgasm that probably was never reached. He felt like shit! He had put his needs and fears ahead of what his little brother required. What a selfish bastard, I am! 

 

Watching the ducks and geese quietly gliding out on the lake, Dean wondered what life would be like with no cares other than eating and bodily functions. Being a damn duck would suit him just fine! Fuck being a duck! With this friggin’ Winchester luck every damned hunter on the planet would see a bulls-eye painted on my feathered ass!

 

He laughed out loud as he reached for another gulp of coffee, frowning as he found the cup already empty. Starting the monstrous growling motor, he headed back towards town. Somewhere in the thirty or so miles ahead, he knew there had to be the prerequisite truck-stop, with plenty of fresh coffee and big juicy, greasy burgers. As much as he wanted to feed his little brother he needed time to think. Alone time to just clear his head. He hoped Sam would understand. Poor Sammy…

 

When he located the truckers’ paradise he was not disappointed, their “never ending cup of coffee” was rich and strong and the burgers very rare and very greasy with lots of grilled onions. Dean ate quietly in the last booth in the back corner, near the bathrooms, always in hunter defensive mode, he faced the diner’s entrance. 

 

After his fifth cup of coffee, he needed to pee and slipped quietly out of his seat and into the men’s room. Apparently he had come into the spotless little tiled room just at the end of something that had involved a couple of truckers, who were chatting and laughing unaware of Dean’s presence at the urinal in the far corner. 

 

“Fuck, Stan! You been practicin’ with somebody else, man? That was fucking awesome! Damn! Came so hard I almost passed out,” the younger chuckling voice came from the large ‘mini-room’ handicapped stall near the door.

 

Stan, a trim older trucker stood outside the big toilet stall holding the door open, “Oh, there woulda’ been hell to pay if that’d happened!” he laughed hard and deep. “Shit, Buddy! Can see me now going up to the front counter…… ‘Geez, Mikey, I don’t know what happened to Buddy. One minute he’s moaning and happy dancin’ with my cock up his ass….and… then BAM! Just like that! Out cold on the floor…Think he needs an ambulance?’..….That’d make us real popular around here.” 

 

Buddy stepped out of the stall, and rubbed his hand playfully through Stan’s silver buzz-cut hair. ‘”Ahhhh, you could plead senility and they’d put all the blame on me. Same time next week, return trip?”

 

Before Stan could answer the invitation, the two men realized Dean was standing at the out-of-site urinal. Without shame they grinned in unison at the handsome young man. Buddy tipped his hat to Dean as they moved to the sinks to wash up. “Knights of the road get lonely too, you know.”

 

Dean smirked a bit on his return to his table, thinking that those guys must not have attended the same school of sex training as Dick. He certainly heard no screaming coming from the john while he’d been sitting here no more than five feet away earlier.

 

 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

 

 

The blond hunter perched on a barstool quietly nursing his third beer as he waited for the pool table to empty again. Stanley, the bartender, had a break coming up and had challenged him to a game of eight ball and Dean’s palms were itching to wrap themselves around a cue-stick. It had been a long hard-thinking kind of day. He needed a little physical release and somehow four games of darts just hadn’t cut it.

 

Soon he would have no choice but to return to the scene of his much 

earlier crime and a game of pool would help push his return time a bit further back. Realizing a solid game of pool was impossible with the distraction of his bladder being full, he moved across the pool table area and down the hallway to the men’s john. Considering his previous experience at the truck stop Dean decided it was safer to pee in a stall. Locking the door behind him, he laughed inwardly at his lousy fucking Winchester luck… all of it bad. And today it had been the absolute pits!

 

No sooner had that thought crossed his mind than the bathroom door was literally being kicked open and he heard two bodies enter, slamming clumsily into any surface they encountered. Grunts and 

groans accompanied every bump and thump he heard. He switched to hunter mode thinking there was a brawl being thrust upon him. As some delicious sounding moaning started, Dean zipped his jeans and sat on the toilet seat in his stall, drawing his legs up Indian style to avoid detection and embarrassment, hoping this guy and his chick got done quickly. Shit! There was a pool game waiting for him!

 

“Awww shit, be more careful that shelf hurt!” obviously the guy speaking.

 

“Mmmmm… kwitcherwhining and fuck me, Teddy!” so obviously not the ‘chick’ Dean was expecting, unless she was a baritone and about six foot tall and on heavy steroids!

 

Oh my God! Not again, dammit!! I gotta start using the Ladies’ Room or finding a damned tree! What’s with these men’s rooms and the fucking floorshows today for God’s sake? Now what?! I’m stuck!

 

“You got the lube, Ted? We going bareback? ‘Cuz I really wanna feel that big cock of yours?” 

 

"What the hell, Hank? You been seeing anybody else? 'Cuz I sure as hell haven't! Of course, it's bareback! I want to feel every bit of you, baby," the voice ended in a small growl as lips got locked together.

 

Suddenly a pained moan, followed by a small yelp, “Easy with the biting, Teddy, I have to work later! Hurry up, I haven’t got all day, get me ready and use plenty of lube, it’s been a while.”

 

"God, I hate these damned rush jobs, Hank. When the hell you gonna ditch the ever-present roommates, so we can do some real fucking? Damn... dropped the tube. Hang on a second."

 

Dean grimaced with discomfort. This was apparently going to get a lot worse before it got any better. With a quiet sigh he settled in for the long term, hoping his legs didn’t go numb or that he’d slip and fall into the toilet.

 

"You offering to make an honest man of me, Teddy? Fuck, you coulda’ warmed your hands first, where you been keeping this shit in the damn fridge? Oooo…Ahhh!… Darn, that’s good " came the appreciative sigh. "Fuck! how many you got in there?"

 

"Only two so far, big baby. Fuck, it has been awhile. You are so damned tight...and no it wasn't in the fridge. What are you bitching about? Didn't you just tell me to hurry up? Then you bitch ‘cause I don't warm the gel and skip the single digit start." Teddy loosed a low growl. "Hell, I can imagine worse things than us moving in together. We could fuck every night...Mmmm, you are sooo tight. Awww, fuck! I gotta get inside...soon. Ahhhh!!"

 

“That’s more like it, oh, yeah, touch that again…” Hank groaned in pleasure, ass banging against the partition. “Ouch, watch the walls!”

 

"I can't help it!"

 

Another bang and a loud thump as Dean's next-door neighbors hit the partition next to him. Saying a quick prayer the wall was sturdier than it looked, he couldn't help but smirk at their squabbling.

 

“Okay, Hank. If you think you're ready now..."

 

" Please… Ted, I needya’… now, " whined Hank.

 

A guttural moan sounded that traveled straight to Dean's trapped cock. He stifled his own groan, drawing blood as he bit the inside of his lower lip.

 

"Ohhhh...uhh.. Yeah!! Hank, that's it. Wrap your legs around my waist, so I get… get...ahhhh...ohhh, yesss… all the way in." The moan that escaped Teddy made even Dean jealous.

 

With a low drawn out moan” Ahhhh…” Followed by, “God! Fuck! Hold still, Ted! I forgot how big you were… you’ve got a cock like a fuckin stallion, need some time ta accommodate ya.”

 

In another moment all Dean got were sound effects, loud, passionate sound effects. He hoped Hank had to get to work soon. 

 

Between the slap, slap, slap, fwap, fwap, fwap of Teddy’s flesh smacking into his partner’s and the panted, gasped directives for more speed and depth from Hank, Dean found his only escape was to cover his ears and pray that Ted was not a Viagra user.

 

The only bright spot to this embarrassing little involuntary voyeurism was that as a captive audience for the second time in one day, Dean was being forced to see his dilemma in a whole new light. Earlier the truckers had had that happily sated looked after their little bout of togetherness, and now these two sounded as if they were happy campers as well. Maybe Sam was right about the act being all about the intention of the partners.

 

Now Dean was actually looking forward to going back to be with Sam. He just hoped he hadn’t burned his bridges beyond repair with his little brother. Sam had been in pretty dire need when Dean had abruptly abandoned him thirteen hours ago. Would Sam forgive and forget and give him one more chance at this new relationship?

 

Just then ‘the boys next door’ began to grind and thump against the partition in a real fucking frenzy! 

 

Thirty seconds later the bathroom door next to Dean’s occupied stall banged softly open… followed by a voice Dean knew all to well. 

 

“Dean? Dean, are you in here?” Sam called out uncertainly.

 

An aggravated groan sounded from the ‘boys’. Now Dean had no real choice. Like it or not, he’d been found out.

 

In a small thoroughly embarrassed voice he spoke up, “Ummm... Err… No, Sammy, I’m over here. Uhhh… be out in a minute…”

 

The sounds in the next stall had quieted to soft moans and heavy breathing. Suddenly a throat was cleared from somewhere close, above Dean’s very red-faced head. Hesitantly looking up he found himself staring painfully into what must be Hank’s scowling face and angry eyes.

 

“Snoop on people like this a lot do you, you friggin’ pervert?” sneered the bodiless head above the partition.

 

Sheepishly Dean shook his head, “No, man, uhhh… really I was peeing in the stall when you two came in and ummm… once you got started I was kinda’ trapped… Ummm… I’m really sorry. Didn’t want to ruin your moment…”

 

“Yeah…? Well, that worked real well… huh…?!” Hank continued to frown darkly down upon him, but Teddy seized the opportunity to make his case. ”Hank, like I said …ditch the roomies and we can do this all nice and cozy and… uninterrupted in a bed! None of this shit!”

 

“Or…” Dean interjected quietly, “At least… take a peek under the stalls to check for occupants from now on…”

 

In unison the ‘bathroom boys’ bawled in exasperation, “Just leave already!!!”

 

Getting quickly to his feet and exiting the stall, Dean washed up. As he dragged the door open he saw Hank still glaring down malevolently from his perch.

 

“Can I ask a question before I go… please?” the hunter asked timidly.

 

“Yes…” Hank sighed, “if it means you’ll get the fuck out of here! What, dammit?”

 

“Do you guys really like that stuff… you know…what you’re doing?” Dean’s face reddened so deeply his freckles disappeared.

 

“It’s called ‘having sex’, asshole… and fuck yeah! With a great partner like Teddy, there isn’t anything I’d rather do! Now… get the fuck out of here!!” 

 

Dean couldn’t scramble through the door quickly enough. Out in the bar area he spotted Sam sitting at a quiet corner booth with two fresh bottles of brew. Stopping at the jukebox Dean dropped in several quarters and made two selections with a soft smirk after he quickly perused the offerings.

 

As Dean bent his knees to slide onto the seat across from him, Sam asked quietly, “What was going on in there?”

 

Shaking his head adamantly, Dean simply said, “You don’t wanna know. Trust me!”

 

As Dean settled in and took a swig from his beer, Sam quietly launched into his well-rehearsed speech, “Dean, I’m so sorry… I want you to know that. I pushed too hard, too fast today. Can you forgive me? I pushed you into a corner and that wasn’t my intention. I just want you to know that I will always be here, arms wide open… if you need me. I am really sorry. I promise to be patient and wait in case you ever change your mind. Can we just start over?” he rattled it out so quickly he was out of breath as he finished.

 

Sitting there across from Dean he was stunned to hear Nickelback playing in the background. Sam couldn’t believe his brother had ever even heard Saving Me much less would choose to play it. The things you learn about someone you think you know so intimately… His stomach knotted as he waited for some reaction from Dean.

 

Dean tried to maintain a neutral stance, eyes downcast concentrating on the hand wrapped around his beer bottle, “I’m sorry too, Sam. I left you pretty bad off today… I was just so scared. Much as I want to pretend the park didn’t leave scars… it did. We just need to start our lives over from this point on, I guess.”

 

Sam sighed with relief. Dean had forgiven him. They could just go back to square one and just be brothers again if it made Dean more comfortable. Sam wasn’t happy but for Dean’s sake he’d make himself cope. For a few minutes, the hunters sat in contemplative silence sipping their beers.

 

Suddenly the chords coming from the big jukebox shifted gears, as Sam found himself listening to the almost sad but encouraging strains of Semi-Sonic and Last Call for Alcohol.

 

Looking up from his beer, Sam realized Dean was smiling at him and silently mouthing the words…

 

 

Closing time

Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end

 

I know who I want to take me home

I know who I want to take me home

I know who I want to take me home

Take me hooome….

 

Closing time 

Time for you to go out to the places you will be from…

 

 

Breaking into the sexiest little lopsided grin, Dean knocked the neck of his bottle against Sam’s beer, “Finish up your beer, Sammy. Let’s get out of here. Huh?”

 

With a smile and happy eyes, Sam enthusiastically tipped the bottom upright, chugging the remainder of the contents and scrambled to his feet. Dean broke into singing out loud in that sweet clear voice of his as they crossed the floor to the exit.

 

I know who I want to take me home

I know who I want to take me home

I know who I want to take me home

Take me hooome….

 

Closing Time

Time for you to go out to the places you will be from

Closing Time

This room won’t be open til your brothers and your sisters come….

 

Sam swore Dean sang the words about ‘your brothers come” a bit louder than the rest and it made him smile inside. Maybe there was hope for them after all!

 

A few girls sighed appreciatively as the brothers passed by, both young men nodding politely at the admiring glances they received. 

 

As soon as they were in the darkness of the parking lot, Sam felt Dean grab his arm spinning him around and pushing him easily against the brick wall of the exterior. “Sam, today was spent in a lot of thought. You could say I had a real epiphany. We really need to talk when we get home.”

 

As the two beautiful brothers slid into the Impala, slamming the doors shut in unison, Dean turned the key releasing the roaring beast beneath the hood. Glancing over at Sam, he suddenly reached out and wrapping a hand across the nape of Sam’s neck, drew him across the seat for a softly sweet kiss.

 

“Glad the motel is so close by, I’m really tired,” he said with a salacious grin.

 

 

TBC ………

 

%%%%%%%%%


End file.
